


Before the Big Time

by legendofgrump



Category: Big Time Rush (TV)
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic, before canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 21:10:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 27,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10749888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendofgrump/pseuds/legendofgrump
Summary: Back when I was really into the show Big Time Rush, I started writing a fic about their lives from Kindergarten that was supposed to end at the pilot episode of the actual show. It chronicled the lives of the boys, using inspiration from quotes in the show and some random ideas here and there, but I never finished. I only got about halfway through, but I thought posting it would be fun just to share probably the biggest fic I'll ever write. Part of this was completed for NaNoWriMo and, for the sake of my memory, this was written in 2015.





	1. The Terrible Two

Five-year-old Kendall Knight walked out the front door, yelling back to his mom that he’d be outside before slamming the door behind him. It was a beautiful summer day. He had to make the most of it, since first grade would be starting in only a couple of weeks, and there was still so much playing left to do. With his bike helmet tucked under one arm and an old, battered hockey stick slung over his shoulder, Kendall was ready to take the day head-on.

Then something caught his eye.

Across the street, another boy was laughing and chasing a small puppy around the front yard of his house. Kendall found it suspicious that he’d never seen this boy before. He spent most every moment of his life outside--besides naptime, dinner time, nighttime, and timeouts, of course. How could he have never come across this kid?

Kendall quickly crossed the street, a furrow in his brow and a determination in his gait. “Hey!” he called out when he stepped foot on the sidewalk in front of the other boy’s lawn.

The other boy looked up from the dirt, where he and the dog had been rolling around and laughing. His smile slipped from his face and he seemed to turn in on himself, almost cowering as Kendall approached him. He didn’t respond.

It could have been the way Kendall’s face had twisted into a bit of a grimace--something it commonly did while his brain was working things out. It could have also been the way Kendall appeared from the kid’s position on the ground, confidently poised above him and wielding a hockey stick. Whatever it was, the kid didn’t seem keen on talking to Kendall, but that didn’t stop the blond-headed boy from trying. “What’s your name?”

“Carlos,” he answered. He gently nudged his puppy off of him and stood up. Carlos was still the slightest bit smaller than Kendall, but he was much less intimidated when he wasn’t on the ground.

“I’m Kendall,” he said, answering the question the other boy had forgotten to ask. The intensity of his expression lessened and Kendall smiled. “You wanna play bike hockey with me?” He gestured with the stick, pointing vaguely in the direction of his bike leaning against his mailbox.

“Bike hockey? What’s that?” Carlos asked, giving a bit of a smile himself.

“It’s like regular hockey, but you use your bike instead of skates. It’s fun,” he finished plainly, and that was enough to convince the dark-haired boy.

After a moment’s pause, Carlos nodded. “Okay, sure. I’ll get my bike.”

Kendall grinned. “I’ll go get you a stick.”

The two boys parted ways, heading back to their respective houses for the necessary supplies for the game. This time, they met back up in front of Kendall’s house, Carlos already poised on his bike when Kendall tossed him the extra stick. The blond heaved himself onto his own bike, but paused before taking off.

“Aren’t you gonna wear a helmet?” Kendall asked, pointing to his own headgear that was laced tight around his head.

Carlos scrunched his face and stuck out his tongue. “Nah, I don’t need one.”

Kendall gave him a wary look, but he figured that Carlos knew what he was doing and shrugged. Kendall pulled a puck out of his cargo shorts with a grin and dropped it to the ground for the faceoff. The two boys immediately began fighting for the puck, slowly moving it up and down the street in an attempt to score. It was new, actually playing with someone instead of a solo game.

It was also a lot more painful.

Having an opponent, especially one as reckless and fearless as Carlos, resulted in the two of them often tumbling off of their bikes and scraping themselves. Marks and scratches covered their bodies, but they continued to clamber back onto their bicycles and try another round, only to reach the same results a few minutes later.

Finally, the game had to stop when Carlos’s bike tipped over the puck at extreme speeds--which, Kendall found out later, was probably the fastest Carlos had ever gone--launching the toddler into the pavement face-first. Luckily, his skull was still intact when he pulled himself off the ground, but the right side of his face had a bad case of road burn and his eyes were brimmed with tears.

Carlos got the attention of both of their moms. He was pulled back into the house to have his wounds treated, while Kendall was yanked back to his own, already getting an earful about how he wasn’t even supposed to be playing something as dangerous as bike hockey and how could he rope the poor little neighbor boy into it and why wasn’t Carlos wearing a helmet anyway? Soon, Kendall was in tears, too, naturally displeased with being scolded and placed in timeout when he got back inside.

It wasn’t the best way to make a friend, but it worked.


	2. The Three Musketeers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Where’d you meet your BFF?”  
> “Kindergarten!”  
> “Danny Craven’s 5th birthday party!”

Danny Craven’s fifth birthday party happened near the end of the school year. The guest list of was huge with almost the entire kindergarten class attending, and Mrs. Craven spared no expense. Bounce houses and entertainment galore covered the park, making it a wonderland for kids.

Kendall and Carlos were enjoying hopping around one of the bounce houses. They were reckless and bold, which resulted in a lot of other kids getting knocked down. Of course, they paid no mind and continued to cause trouble. When Carlos climbed up on the netted walls and jumped off, he ricocheted off the floor and knocked into a brunet boy.

“Get off me!” the boy demanded, shoving Carlos to the side. “You’re gonna ruin my clothes!”

Having seen where Carlos had landed, Kendall bounced over to the two. He helped Carlos stand and get his bearings. “Don’t be a jerk,” the blond demanded. “He didn’t mean to hit you.”

“My mom paid a ton for these clothes and I’m not allowed to mess them up.”

Carlos scoffed. “That’s dumb, clothes are supposed to get dirty. That’s what washing machines are for.”

“But my mom says--”

“Who cares what your mom says?” Kendall interjected. The brunet’s eyes widened in shock. “Fun first, clothes second.”

The boy was hopelessly conflicted. Kendall was contradicting everything he’d ever known. Seeing the conflict on his face, Carlos said, “Don’t worry, we’ll show you how to have fun.”

They took the boy--later introduced as James--around Danny Craven’s party and introduced him to the wonderful world of getting dirty. After dirt, water, and food had found residence on their clothes, the three boys were content. Lastly, they headed back for the bounce house to finish up the perfect day.

“Told you getting messy was super fun,” Kendall said with a smug grin.

James nodded. He was living in pure euphoria. He’d never had this much fun in his life. “I can’t believe I’ve never had a food fight before!”

A sharp gasp pulled the smiles from the boys’ faces. “James, what happened to your clothes!” His mother swiftly pulled him toward her. “I told you to be careful. These clothes were so nice and now they’re ruined!”

“We were just having fun, Mom,” James whined. His mother was busy trying to wipe dirt from his hair and face.

“What kind of fun requires you to get this filthy?”

Kendall and Carlos were joined by their own moms, who were unsurprised to find their boys covered in dirt. James looked at them somberly, wishing his mom was the same way.

Mrs. Garcia pulled her son close to her, unfazed by his grimy hands. “What did you get yourself into this time? You look like you just got out of a dumpster!” she joked.

“At least you don’t smell too bad,” Mrs. Knight pointed out. Kendall was grinning as his mom ruffled his hair.

The blond quickly tugged his mom over to wear Mrs. Diamond was still painstakingly cleaning her son. “Mom! This is James, he’s our new friend!”

Mrs. Knight’s smile faltered when she saw the glare Mrs. Diamond was giving her. James didn’t even get a chance to say hello. “So it was your boy that talked my James into ruining his clothes.”

“Well, I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm by it,” Mrs. Knight insisted. “You know kids, they just love to get messy.”

“It was super fun,” Carlos said, pulling his mom over as well. He had the biggest grin on his face. “We had the best time ever, right James?”

James hesitated. His mom was giving him a stern look and he was afraid to go against her. Then, he looked at Kendall and Carlos. The two were beaming with joy, just as James had been before his mother interrupted them. He nodded.

Carlos lit up with an idea. “You should come over to my house, I have the biggest, best backyard ever.” Kendall nodded, as if it needed a second opinion. “And you can meet my dog, Sparky, he’s tons of fun, too.”

The boys were busy making plans, already fully invested in their friendship. Hearing all of this, Mrs. Diamond pursed her lips. Mrs. Knight and Mrs. Garcia were already writing down their phone numbers for her so that James could keep in contact with their boys. Mrs. Diamond was still wary.

“I don’t want James ruining all of his nice clothes playing in the dirt like a hooligan,” she said, arms crossed.

James looked up at her, pleading with his eyes. “We’ll be careful, Mom, promise. I won’t get dirty anymore.”

She hesitated momentarily. It was nice that James was finally making friends. With a sigh, she pulled her cellphone from her pocket. “Okay, fine, we’ll see if we can’t get you boys together again soon.”


	3. Apple of My Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And don’t forget, I talked Mom out of naming you Apple.”

It was halfway into the first grade when Kendall’s baby sister was born. His mom had left for the hospital while he was at school and his dad came to pick him up around lunchtime. He, James, and Carlos were immediately riled up at the prospect of the baby coming, though obviously Kendall was the most excited.

Sure, Kendall had been a little wary of the new baby at first. He’d heard horror stories from so many people. Once the baby was born, he’d be forgotten, left behind. The new kid would get everything he wanted and he’d be left to take care of himself. Carlos was sure to tell him--as the youngest of his own family--that the youngest was always the favorite and they would always win against the older siblings just by crying a little. Absolutely none of this sounded good for Kendall.

But eventually his parents managed to convince him that none of those things were true. They’d both be loved equally. Of course they wouldn’t forget about him. He wasn’t going to be left behind. Nothing his friends were telling him was right and he should probably stop listening to them. They told him that the new baby would look up to him and he’d be a role model. He’d have a new little brother or sister to play with all the time. They told him anything positive that they could think of. And Kendall ate it up.

By the time the baby came, Kendall was thoroughly excited for it. The drive to the hospital was torture. He wanted to see the baby  _ now. _ A grin was plastered on his face as he dashed out of the car and straight for the hospital.

When they finally reached his mom’s room, Kendall was practically trembling with enthusiasm. He sprinted into the room at full speed, sliding to a stop just in time to miss slamming into the bed, his father right behind him, though much calmer. He looked up to his mom, who was laughing and smiling, and he clambered up onto the bed beside her. The baby lay in her lap, swathed tightly in a pink blanket and sleeping soundly.

“Meet your new little sister,” Mrs. Knight said gently, still laughing at Kendall’s dramatic entrance. She adjusted so that Kendall could get a better look at the infant, leaving him awestricken as he reached out a hand to touch her. As gently as he could manage, he poked the baby’s cheek and she stirred slightly, cooing as she awoke.

“What are we gonna call her, Mommy?” Kendall asked, watching as the little girl’s eyes fluttered open. They were big and brown and stared right at him. He couldn’t help but grin.

His mom considered a moment, then smiled down at the baby. “Her name’s Apple.”

The magic was gone. Kendall scrunched up his nose, furrowed his eyebrows, and looked at his mom with pure disgust on his face. “That name is dumb,” he said bluntly.

Mrs. Knight looked hurt. “You don’t like it?”

Kendall quickly shook his head. “Everyone’s gonna make fun of her.”

She shot a desperate look to her husband, hoping for some backup, but he said nothing. Turning back to Kendall, she said, “Well, what do you think we should name her?”

There was a moment of silence as Kendall considered the question. It couldn’t be something lame like  _ Apple. _ It had to be the best name ever. Something that fit her perfectly. He looked hard at his baby sister, trying to find it in her face. She was cute, like a kitten. Small like one, too. Something like that.  _ Cat. Kitten. Kitty. _ “Katie,” he finally said. “I like Katie.”

Mrs. Knight looked at her baby again, smiling. It did have a nice ring to it. She looked back to her husband, who was smiling as well. “Okay,” she said, looking back down at the baby in her arms. “Katie it is.”


	4. Helmethead

Only a couple of weeks remained of summer before Carlos, James, and Kendall went back to school as second graders. While they were enthusiastic about starting the new school year and having yet another chance to wreak havoc within their elementary school, their attention was currently occupied by something even more exciting. Carlos’s birthday was today and his family made every celebration a carnival.

Carlos Garcia was the youngest of five and had only just turned seven years old. All of his siblings and, of course, his parents pitched in to decorate for his party. His oldest brother Zachary was helping his father pull chairs into the backyard, while Mia and Lukas, the next oldest, hung up streamers and blew up balloons. Mrs. Garcia and Annie stayed in the kitchen, decorating Carlos’s cake and positioning the candles just right. Kendall, James, and Carlos watched from the front yard, peering over the fence with baited breath.

From where they were standing, everything looked perfect. The streamers looked so expertly tied they could be walked on like a tightrope--and they would definitely test it if given the chance. A pinata hung from a tree branch, filled with the promise of candies and treats. The balloons were the size of basketballs, just waiting for a game of “Don’t Let the Balloon Touch the Floor” which would surely get violent in no time at all. Inside, the smell of cake wafted out to the backyard, filling the boys’ noses with sweet, chocolatey aromas and their mouths with lolling tongues and drool.

But perhaps the most mesmerizing sight was the table with a massive pile of presents. All wrapped in sparkly wrapping paper that glinted in the sun like treasure from a pirate’s chest. Ribbons tied expertly and complementing their packages with just the right color. It was pure art splayed across the plastic table. And surely, Carlos couldn’t wait to rip every last one to shreds, revealing the prizes just beneath the glittery covers.

Mrs. Garcia and Annie exited the house, the cake being carried carefully to the table to sit right next to the presents. As soon as plate met table, the boys dashed straight into the backyard to begin the festivities. They bounced on their heels, waiting for permission to do as they pleased with the whole setup. They were already breathing hard from anticipation.

Turning to the boys with a smile, Mrs. Garcia said, “Okay boys, what do you want to--”

“PRESENTS!” Carlos blurted, practically exploding with impatience. “ _ Please, _ Mama? I wanna open presents!”

Mrs. Garcia pursed her lips, considering for a moment. “Well wouldn’t you rather play a game first? We can swing at the pinata or--”

_ “Maaaamaaaa,” _ Carlos whined.

After a moment, Mrs. Garcia let out a sigh. “Okay, we’ll open presents and  _ then _ the pinata.” It was  _ his _ birthday, after all.

Carlos’s face lit up, a gap-toothed grin filling his expression with elation. the boys rushed over to the table, James and Kendall flanking the birthday boy as he hopped into the seat closest to the mass of gifts. His mom hardly had the camera in hand before Carlos began ripping things open, barely stopping to check who each present was from.

Zach had gotten him a plastic dart gun, the first of the bullets being immediately shot into the bushes and then promptly discarded for the next thing. Annie had gotten him a cute little book with lots of pictures, which he should have expected from his nerdy sister. He smiled politely and placed it to the side. From Mia, he got a toy rocket ship and Lukas had given him a box of Legos. Then, he tore into James’s present--a cool shirt that he was sure James’s mom had picked out. Lastly, Kendall’s present was a plastic dinosaur with amazingly sharp teeth and fierce claws and everything a little boy could ask for.

Just as soon as it had started, the present-opening was through. Paper lay scattered across the ground and table, concealing some of the presents underneath the garbage. Though he loved his presents, Carlos was a little disappointed that the surprises were over. There was nothing left to rip into. There was nothing left at all.

Mrs. Garcia must have seen his face fall. As much as he tried to hide it, Carlos’s emotions had always been on display. “Wait a minute, there’s one more,” she said quickly, a lilt of mystery in her voice. That’s when Carlos noticed that his dad wasn’t outside anymore.

When he returned, Mr. Garcia was obviously hiding something behind his back, causing Carlos to perk up once more. The way his father was grinning, it must have been something big. Then, in one swift motion, Mr. Garcia pulled the object from behind his back, revealing a shiny, black helmet. Carlos was frozen, still processing exactly what he was supposed to be feeling about this, as his dad slapped the helmet onto his son’s head.

“You like it?” his dad asked expectantly. “You said you wanted a helmet like mine.”

That was true. But this helmet  _ wasn’t _ like his dad’s. It wasn’t a police helmet. It wasn’t even a bike helmet. It was--”A hockey helmet?! That’s so cool!” Kendall squealed, jerking Carlos’ head toward him so he could see himself in the shiny top.

“But I don’t play hockey!” Carlos said, his expression riddled with confusion.

Mrs. Garcia couldn’t hold back her excitement anymore. She snapped another round of pictures of the boys before putting down the camera to explain. “Well, we thought you’d like to change that,” she said.

Finally, everything was clicking into place. Carlos was connecting all the pieces--a little later than everyone else, but he got there nonetheless. “I’m gonna play hockey!” he cheered, turning to his friends. James was excited for him, but not nearly as enthralled as Kendall. That kid had been playing hockey since he could crawl, and having one of his best friends play with him was like a dream come true. Carlos patted the helmet on his head, really taking in the sight of all the smiles and happiness around him. “This is the  _ best birthday ever!” _ he chirped. “I’m never taking this helmet off! Ever!”

With that, Mrs. Garcia nodded and herded the boys off to the pinata. Carlos really didn’t take off his helmet for the rest of the day. It was hard enough getting him to take it off for bed. And even then, the next morning, she found him snoozing ungracefully as usual, the helmet nestled atop his head.


	5. The Dark Knight

He was only seven years old. Katie was hardly one. Luckily, none of his friends were there to see him crying. Crying was for babies, of course he knew that, but  _ it just wasn’t fair. _ Kendall buried his face even deeper into the pillow, letting sob after sob rip through the chilled air like a cleaver to meat.

Mrs. Knight’s thin, warm hands rubbed up and down his back again. It was hard to say how long he’d been crying, but she had been in and out of his room all the while, trying to take care of Katie and Kendall at the same time. It could have been so much easier if only--

But thinking like that made Kendall cry even harder.  _ It wasn’t fair. _ He couldn’t even imagine how it made any sense for his dad to just leave. To just  _ walk out. _ It wasn’t fair to Kendall or to Katie, and it was especially unfair to his mom. It was a miracle Mrs. Knight wasn’t sobbing along with him, but there she was. Strong as ever and holding everything together--she’d had a lot of practice over the years.

Mr. Knight had always been pretty distant, but Kendall had never really noticed. He’d had nothing to compare it to. His father was around sometimes and, when he wasn’t, Kendall assumed that was normal. He was always off somewhere else, though. Somewhere on a business trip or a meeting or some fancy, high-end restaurant, talking up executives and trying to get himself a better position in the company he worked at. It all sounded believable to Kendall. Except those business trips were hotels by the beach. Those meetings were excursions to someone else’s house. Those fancy, high-end restaurants weren’t for executives. They were for  _ women. _ Women that weren’t his mom.

Katie was supposed to change that. She was supposed to be the thing that bound them together. The thing that brought all of them into a nice, normal family again. It was nice in theory. If only it had worked.

One fight later and his dad had stormed out of the house. Mrs. Knight had given him an ultimatum: his wife or the other women. He stormed out, decision clear. Mr. Knight was a stubborn man, and when he couldn't have both, he knew which one he didn’t want anymore.  _ It’ll be okay, _ Mrs. Knight had told Kendall--and herself. But would it?

Everything would be different now. No more father-son hockey games. No more playful roughhousing in the living room or riding around the park on bikes. Katie wouldn’t even get to know him. Katie wouldn’t even get the chance to really have a father. Mrs. Knight would have to work more to make up for the massive loss of income. Their whole lives would be flipped around.

Kendall hated the feeling of losing someone. He hated even more that he wanted his dad to come back. Hated that, even after everything he’d heard him yell and everything he’d learned about his dad, he still wanted him to come back and hug him and tell him everything would be alright. Hated that he knew he wouldn’t.

_ It just wasn’t fair. _


	6. In-terror-gation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Just try not to go overboard this time, dad, okay?"

“Now, which one of you thieves stole my boy’s purple ice pop?” questioned Mr. Garcia, intimidating in his full police uniform.

He had the classroom’s rolling chalkboard pulled to the center of the room, a makeshift height marker drawn on it to imitate a police lineup. Several kids stood in front of the chalkboard, terrified and confused as to what might happen to them. Finally, the pressure took over the culprit and he fainted on the spot, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Yeah, he did it,” Mr. Garcia said, content in having solved the case.

Carlos merely watched from the doorway, a frightened look on his face. He’d never hear the end of this for the rest of his life. These kids weren’t about to forget the kid whose dad treated them like criminals over an ice pop, and he knew it.

* * *

 

The day had started out great. It was the last day of school, and their second grade class had been partying to celebrate the approaching summer. The kids were given cake, then released onto the playground to get rid of the energy. they spent more than half the day out there.

Kendall, James, and Carlos must have traversed the entire playground. They commandeered the swings, then the slides, then the monkey bars, then the soccer field. When they’d exhausted every possible outlet to hold their attention, but still had energy to spare, they started climbing trees and jumping out of them. That is, until they got in trouble and were sat in timeout for fifteen minutes to calm down.

Once they’d been taken back inside, the teacher gave the kids even more sugar. There were juice boxes and cookies and leftover cake and ice pops galore. It was every kid’s sugary dreamland, and everyone definitely took advantage of it.

That’s when everything started to turn sour.

Carlos was on his fifth ice pop of the afternoon, Kendall and James cheering him on as they pushed more of the frozen treats toward him. Despite the burning brain freeze and aching stomach, the helmeted boy continued to push forward. After all, he had an image to keep. An image as a bottomless pit that would take any dare thrown at him.

“This is all of them,” Kendall said, pouring the rest of the pouch onto the floor in front of Carlos.

“He can’t eat all that,” James said, looking over the pile of ice pops. “That’s like a hundred.”

“Just watch me,” Carlos said, sticking out his tongue as he grabbed another. After so many of the ice pops, his tongue and lips were shaded a messy, dark color that was some mix of a wide variety of more appealing colors. He reached into the pile and pulled out another.

“Hey, you can’t eat all of those!” shouted someone else. A hand reached out and grabbed Carlos’s ice pop from his grasp. Carlos turned to face the other boy, seeing Joey, a kid that was always looking for something to be mad about.

“I’m trying to set a record!” Carlos yelled exasperatedly, standing up and snatching the ice pop back. “I have to eat all of them or it doesn’t count!”

Joey took the ice pop from him again, this time pushing Carlos to the ground. The boy pointedly ripped off the wrapper and shoved the popsicle in his mouth. He guzzled it down before Carlos even had the chance to stand up.

“Hey, that’s not fair! We were using those!” Kendall shouted, scrunching up his nose in anger. He crossed his arms over his chest, ready to fight, and James quickly flanked him with a similar pose.

“It is so fair!” Joey countered. “you’re s’posed to  _ share! _ ”

Parents were just beginning to show up on the scene, trying to pick up their kids and take them home. When Carlos’s dad arrived, still in uniform from the end of his shift and looking as intimidating as ever, Carlos saw his chance and took it. He quickly began bawling as his father approached, incoherently sobbing out how he’d had his popsicle stolen and it wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t until  _ after _ the interrogation that they whole story accidentally spilled out. Carlos’s excitement over how many ice pops he had actually managed to eat before Joey had stolen one overcame him, and he quickly ratted himself out. Despite Kendall and James trying their hardest to get Carlos out of trouble, it was impossible for them to outsmart Mr. Garcia, and Carlos was given a stern talking to about lying and hoarding ice pops.

  
Still, seeing Joey faint under the pressure of his father’s gaze was definitely worth it.


	7. The Rain Room

Summer was taking a toll on the town of Shakopee, Minnesota, with the heatwave of the century hanging around for four days and counting. Even the ever-energetic trio of James, Kendall, and Carlos found themselves at a halt of activity, too drenched in their own sweat to function. The boys lounged around the Knight household, trying to remember a time before the sun scorched the backyard to a crisp and everything they touched wasn’t damp.

“I’m  _ bored,” _ whined Carlos, pounding his tiny fists on the floor where he lay. He was spread as wide as he could manage, helmet resting on his chest. “We gotta do something.”

“It’s too  _ hot _ to do anything,” Kendall pointed out from his spot on the couch. One arm dangled lifelessly over the sofa arm and the other continuously wiped away the sweaty bangs that kept falling in his face.

“If we even move, we’d catch on fire,” James added, though his voice came out muffled. He had his face shoved into the crevice of the couch cushions, where he claimed it was much cooler.

“And Mom said not to move ‘til she got back,” Kendall said. This was the only time Mrs. Knight could have imagined being able to leave the three boys alone in the house while she ran errands. It was nice to be able to leave the house with only Katie and not a whole squad of troublemaking children by her side or having to call someone to watch them. Usually, they would have caused as much havoc as physically possible while she was out, but today they were moving slower than sloths. They couldn’t have caused trouble if they wanted to.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Carlos said. He let out a long, exasperated sigh, arching his head back so he could see the front door behind him. Maybe if Mrs. Knight came back, she could crank the air conditioning to full blast and give them something fun to do. Or make them cookies. Either one would do.

It felt like an eternity before Mrs. Knight came home. She was surprised to find the boys where she’d left them, but there they were, still groaning about the heat and their boredom. Slowly, they got up and followed Mrs. Knight to the kitchen, where she was placing the grocery bags on the table, Katie in her other arm.

She said nothing as she placed Katie in her highchair, causing the boys to look up at her expectantly. They’d grown far too used to Kendall’s mom bringing them goodies when she came back from running errands.

“Did you bring us cookies?” Carlos finally blurted.

“Nope,” Mrs. Knight said simply, scooting around the boys to start putting away the groceries.

“Is it candy? Soda? Chocolate?” James pushed.

“No, no, and no,” she said, ticking off the answers on her fingers. She rifled through the grocery bags before saying, “I thought you guys might want something to help you beat the heat.” With a bright smile, Mrs. Knight pulled what she was looking for out of the bag and turned, presenting it to the boys.

Their eyes lit up, grubby hands instantly reaching out for the amazing water guns before them. Soon, each boy was equipped with one and they all grinned at each other. “Can we play with them now, Mom?” Kendall asked hopefully.

“I don’t see why not,” she said. “You can fill them up with the hose outside and if you need any help just--” The back door slammed shut and the only sound was Katie chattering happily in her highchair.

Kendall, James, and Carlos were outside and hooking up the hose in an instant, ready as ever to get the ensuing water fight on the road. “Okay, we need rules,” Kendall said as he plugged the hose into the first water gun.

James turned the hose on as Carlos said, “ _ Rules? _ There are no rules in war!”

“I don’t wanna get my hair wet,” James said, patting it down protectively. “It’s perfect and water will just mess it up.”

“Okay,” Kendall said with a nod. “What else?”

James spoke up again. “And don’t get my shirt wet. Mom says it’s dry-clean only and that means you can’t get it wet.”

“How do you clean it without water?” Carlos asked. He traded Kendall an empty water gun for the now-filled one.

Ignoring the question, he continued. “And my pants will shrink in water or somthing, so don’t hit those either.”

Kendall looked up from his work, befuddled. “That just leaves your shoes,” he pointed out.

James gasped. “You can’t shoot those either! It’ll mess them up!”

“Where do you want us to aim then?” Carlos asked, switching in the final water gun to be filled.

The brunet boy inspected himself, looking for a solution. “Um, hands, I guess.” He held out his bare hands and wriggled his fingers. “That way you don’t mess anything up.”

“You can’t have a  _ water _ fight without getting  _ wet,” _ Kendall insisted, standing up with the final water gun filled to the brim. James turned the hose off, huffing all the while. Carlos and Kendall exchanged an irritated look.

Then James was soaked.

Kendall and Carlos had unleashed all three water guns on James, leaving him dripping from head to toe with cool water and hot rage. The two grinned at their friend’s obvious disgust and, before James could yell, Kendall said, “At least you’re not hot anymore.”

Aggravated, James snatched one of the soakers from Carlos and used the remainder of its contents to douse the other two. They squealed and yelped at the cold water and, finally, all three were drenched, hair and fingers dripping.

Unfortunately, the heat sapped the cool water from their skin all too quickly. All that was left behind was the uncomfortable dampness of their clothes, and they felt hotter than ever before. With their previous sweaty discomfort returning, the water fight slipped through the cracks. The boys went through a few rounds of refilling and re-drenching themselves until the efforts seemed useless.

It wasn’t long before the three were back in Kendall’s living room, sprawled out in their previous positions and exhausted from the dry air. Luckily, Mrs. Knight had cranked the air conditioning up significantly since she’d come home, and the inside of the house was much cooler than the outside.

Carlos sat up from his spot, gaining energy from the bearable, indoor temperature. “I wanna play with the water guns,” he said, pouting.

“It’s too  _ hot _ outside, Carlos,” James reminded him.

Kendall sat up, that familiar scrunched expression he got when he was thinking plastered on his face. “But it’s nice and cool  _ inside,” _ he said getting strange looks from the other two.

“Yeah, but the water guns are  _ outside,” _ Carlos said.

The blond tilted his head, the plan fully formulating in his mind, then dashed outside. James and Carlos watched the backdoor carefully, still unsure of what was going on. When Kendall returned, he held all three water guns in his hands, nozzles dripping with fresh hose-water. He issued the other two boys their weapons and readied his own gun. “We’ll just bring the water fight inside,” he said simply, James and Carlos lighting up at the suggestion.

Soon, there was an all-out water gun war happening in the Knights’ living room. All three boys tumbled and crawled around furniture and established forts behind the chairs and couch. They laughed and squealed and stomped through the room, occasionally calling timeouts to reload their weapons before jumping right back in.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Mrs. Knight yelled from the doorway, mouth agape at the sight. Kendall, James, and Carlos stopped firing to look at her, complete innocence and confusion in their eyes. The entire living room was sopping by now. “Water guns are  _ outside _ toys,” she scolded, voice raised to a frightening level. “Everything’s soaked! What were you thinking?!”

“That it was too hot outside?” Kendall asked more than answered, not understanding the consequences of bringing their war indoors.

Exasperated, Mrs. Knight sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter and calmer. “Kendall, go put the water guns in the backyard and go to your room.”

“But Mom--”

“Stop!” she insisted, holding up a hand. Kendall hung his head and did as he was told. Mrs. Knight turned to James and Carlos next, their eyes already on the floor. “And I’m going to call your parents and tell them you’re coming home.” The boys nodded and headed on their way, Mrs. Knight watching them go to make sure they didn’t try and make a break for freedom.

  
Later that day, Mr. Garcia came over to help Mrs. Knight move some of the furniture outside, hoping it would dry faster in the blaring sun. Kendall spent the afternoon in timeout, and James and Carlos were punished similarly. After that, water guns were kept outside and Mrs. Knight swore that the couch still felt damp every time she sat on it.


	8. I See London, I See Pants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I hate being laughed at. Like that time in the third grade when those kids pantsed me in the cafeteria.”  
> “We said we were sorry!”

It was entirely possible that Kendall, James, and Carlos were the rowdiest kids in the entire lunchroom. They were only third graders, yet everyone seemed to know who they were. They spent a good majority of their time in the principal’s office and, when they weren’t, they were causing havoc that would ultimately get them sent to the principal’s office. It was simple, stupid pranks that the boys thought were funny--and most of their classmates agreed, unless they were the ones being pranked.

Today was no different, as the three hooligans laughed and tossed food at each other. A teacher glared at them from the other side of the room, but they hardly noticed. “Did you see the new kid?” Kendall asked during a lull in their revelry. He pointed vaguely to the end of the table, but it was obvious who he was referencing.

James and Carlos turned to get a good look at the kid. He was small, scrawny, dark-haired. Looked like a deer in headlights all the time. They hadn’t heard him say a word all day. “Yeah, so?” Carlos asked through a mouthful of tater tots.

“ _ So _ I think it’d be funny if we pranked him.” This caught James and Carlos’s attention. They were always up for a good prank. Especially on an unsuspecting victim.

“How?” James asked, raising his eyebrows. The new kid was already standing up from his seat, tray in hand.

Kendall smirked. “With a classic.” He popped a tater tot into his mouth and hopped off the bench, following the other kid to the trashcan.

Carlos and James watched intensely, waiting for Kendall’s genius prank. When the new kid’s back was turned, Kendall took his chance. Suddenly, the kid’s pants were on the ground and the entire lunchroom was erupting with laughter. Kendall had a massive grin, taking in the feeling of pantsing this poor kid successfully.

The dark-haired victim’s brown eyes went wide and his tray fell to the floor. In a split second, he was crying and trying desperately to regain the little bit of dignity he had left. His tears brought Kendall back down from his high and he furrowed his bushy brows.

“It was just a prank,” he said, though it sounded more defensive than he’d intended. “Don’t cry.”

With his pants finally back in place, the boy met Kendall’s eyes and sniffed. He couldn’t even speak, his lip was trembling too much. With shaky legs, the boy ran out of the lunchroom as fast as he could and Kendall watched him go with a strange, unsettling feeling in his stomach. Pranks were usually funny to everyone, even the person getting pranked. The kid wasn’t supposed to cry.

Before Kendall could return to the table and ask Carlos and James why he felt so bad, a teacher grabbed him by the arm. He was rushed back to reality as she scolded him, telling him how inappropriate it was to do that to another student. How much trouble he was in. The usual spiel.

Once they reached the office, Kendall found Carlos and James had been dragged along. Apparently they were so associated with each other, that it was just assumed they’d had something to do with the prank, too. The two darker-haired boys sat on a bench outside the principal’s office, scowls on their faces because no one would listen that they had nothing to do with the whole thing. When Kendall sat down on the end of the bench, they brightened a bit.

“That was hilarious!” Carlos said, first to regain his cheer.

“Yeah, you had the whole room laughing,” James complimented.

“I feel bad,” Kendall said plainly, eyes trained on the carpet. “I didn’t mean to make him cry.”

James waved a hand. “He’ll get over it.”

Kendall didn’t answer. He wasn’t so sure that James was right.

Finally, the three boys were pulled into the familiar office. The first thing they noticed was the kid in one of the chairs in front of the desk. The kid they had pranked.

“He snitched!” Carlos shrieked, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. The boy shook his head frantically, but curled deeper in on himself as he did so. Kendall pushed Carlos’s arm back down to his side, a furrow back in his brow.

“Boys,” began Mrs. Wicket, their signal to sit down. They planted themselves in the familiar, plush chairs of the office. “What you did today in the lunchroom was very rude and extremely inappropriate.”

James and Carlos took on their familiar glazed-over gaze, used to the same old speech from their beloved principal. Kendall, however, was unusually attentive. Everything that Mrs. Wicket said made him feel worse and worse, and he finally understood why he had felt so bad when he’d seen the boy cry. He’d  _ caused that. _ He’d done something  _ wrong. _ It wasn’t just the kind of wrong that would get him a timeout and a scolding. He’d hurt someone else’s feelings and it made him feel terrible.

“I expect you boys to apologize to Logan,” Mrs. Wicket finished. When James and Carlos began to argue, she cut them off with a stern, “ _ Now.” _

“Sorry,” the two sighed, almost perfectly synchronized with their apathy. Logan nodded his head to signal that he’d accepted it, but wouldn’t look up from the floor.

Mrs. Wicket shot a glance at Kendall and, seeing the serious expression on the blond’s face, she ushered James and Carlos back to class, leaving Kendall and Logan alone in her office. Grateful for the privacy, Kendall slid from his chair and shuffled over to Logan’s.

“I’m really sorry, Logan,” he said gently, meaning every single word. The boy nodded, taking the apology just the same as he did the other two. “Really,” Kendall added, desperate to make him understand it, “ _ really _ sorry.”

“Okay,” Logan said, the only word Kendall had ever heard him say.

Kendall puffed out his cheeks a little in frustration. “Like really,  _ really, really, re--” _

“Okay,” Logan said again, a little stronger. Finally, brown met green and the dark-haired boy smiled meekly. “It’s okay,” he muttered.

For a moment, Kendall didn’t think and he threw his arms around the smaller boy, squeezing him in a strong embrace. He could feel Logan’s hands shaking, pressed in between their chests. When Kendall released him, Logan wouldn’t look at him anymore, but there was nothing else Kendall could do. Logan left the room just as quickly as he had the lunchroom and Kendall was soon led back to class by Mrs. Wicket herself.

Kendall spent the rest of the day shooting curious glances over at Logan during class, hardly paying attention to anything the teacher was saying. Even Carlos and James couldn’t keep his attention long enough to distract him. Logan only looked back at him twice, and the first time, his gaze darted back to his desk as soon as their eyes locked.

  
The second time, though, Kendall kept his attention long enough to offer a smile. And Logan smiled back.


	9. And You Make Four

Carlos tapped his pencil against the desk. He gnawed at the eraser. Rolled it back and forth across his desk. The whole time, he glared down at the worksheet in front of him, as if the answers would fill in themselves. Even after being given a solid fifteen minutes to work on it so far, Carlos’s paper was still blank. He just didn’t know where to start.

Math wasn’t necessarily his strong suit. In fact, it was his weakest subject that he’d encountered so far. Being forced to sit still and do nothing but math worksheets was the last thing Carlos had planned for the school day, but he’d get in a lot of trouble if he turned in another blank page. He’d had those talks before, with his mom and teacher both. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about doing his best or school or being smart or whatever. He just  _ didn’t get it. _ Math was hard, and that was really the only thing he knew about it.

With a quiet grunt, Carlos’s head dropped onto his desk, the helmet atop his head causing a  _ clunk _ when it hit.

“Do you need help?” a shy voice asked.

Carlos turned his head to the side, head still resting on the table, and saw the kid sitting next to him staring at him warily. He recognized that kid. The one that got him in trouble for a prank he didn’t even do. The one Kendall had pantsed in the cafeteria and then gotten mad when anyone mentioned it. What was his name? Logan. That was it. “You wanna help me?” Carlos asked with a pout.

“Sure,” Logan said, then quickly added, “if you need it.” He wriggled uncomfortably in his seat, unable to meet Carlos’s gaze for more than a couple of seconds. Logan was a nervous wreck.

Slowly, Carlos lifted his head and nodded. “Yeah, I don’t get it.”

Logan leaned over to get a better look at Carlos’s worksheet, a little shocked to find it completely blank. He shook off the surprise and jumped into an explanation, trying to make it as simple as he could manage. It was only basic multiplication, but Carlos was really struggling to understand it and he had to get it through to him.

Five minutes of “I don’t get it” and “That doesn’t make sense” later, Logan sighed. “Do you want me to just do it for you?” Logan asked.

Carlos cocked his head to the side, a little surprised. Then his face lit up. He nodded eagerly and Logan swiftly snatched up the worksheet, filling it out faster than light. Soon, the paper was back on his desk, fully filled out and--Carlos guessed--perfectly correct. Looking from his paper to the dark-haired genius, Carlos grinned. “Thanks.” Logan nodded then turned back to his own desk. “Do you wanna sit with us at lunch?”

At first, Logan was a little flustered at the offer. It hadn’t even been a month since his first experience with Carlos and his friend Kendall. Now Carlos was offering his friendship--at least, that’s how it seemed. With a wary smile, Logan nodded, and that was the last thing Logan said until lunch.

When the class filed out of the classroom for lunchtime, Carlos pulled Logan along enthusiastically, as if he was bringing a cool toy to show off to his friends. Though he was still unsure, Logan had little choice but to follow the hyperactive boy and soon they found themselves in front of Carlos’s usual spot. James and Kendall were already there across the table, and their conversation halted when Logan grabbed their attention.

“Logan’s gonna sit with us today,” Carlos stated plainly, sitting down in his own seat before waving the shy boy into the seat next to him. Kendall nodded his approval with a smile.

“Why?” James asked, though the question didn’t sound malicious. The brunet was merely curious as to why Carlos had taken such an interest in Logan all of a sudden. He’d never even really mentioned him before--at least, since Kendall made them both shut up about the pantsing. Still, Logan flinched.

“Because he did my math work for me and I like him,” Carlos said matter-of-factly.

Kendall looked at Logan with furrowed brows. “You did his work for him?” Logan nodded timidly.

“You wanna do mine?” James asked with a laugh. “That spelling homework? I don’t wanna do it, but you can.”

“Sure, if you want,” Logan said, startling the other three boys.

Logan actually held up on his part of the deal, too. The next day, Logan handed James his homework, allowing him to copy every single answer off of him. The boys loved it, and quickly integrated him into the friend group.

As the timid, little boy began to open up more, the guys began to like him for more than his brains. Soon, they hung out all the time, invited him over to their houses, and simply made all of their previous games four-player in order to account for Logan. It was a glorious friendship and, as a bonus, Kendall, Carlos, and James didn’t have to do any homework.


	10. Games

Out of all of them, Carlos had the biggest backyard. The whole thing was dotted with trees that were just right for climbing and hiding behind, and the rest of the yard was wide open, covered in plush grass that cushioned a lot of falls. There wasn’t anything to accidentally run over and destroy, unlike Kendall’s house which had a massive flower garden in the backyard.

Carlos’s house was the perfect place to play outdoor games, like today’s rousing game of tag. Tag wasn’t exactly a favorite for the boys to play because it usually resulted in all of them getting very frustrated with each other. In fact, they usually only played it once they’d forgotten the results of the last game. Then, they’d end up in the same old fights that they’d forget yet again.

“James is it!” Kendall shrieked as he tackled the brunet to the ground. The blond was instantly up and across the yard, avoiding the new tagger.

“Nuh-uh! We said you can’t tackle!” James yelled back from the ground. He sat up with a scowl.

“No we didn’t!” Kendall argued.

“Yes we did!”

“Why don’t we just try again?” Logan suggested. “That one doesn’t count and then we don’t tackle anymore.”

“This is like the fourth time we’ve reset! I’m sick of being it!” Kendall crossed his arms and pouted. “I said James was it and he is! We never said no tackles.”

“Fine!” Carlos said. He slapped Kendall on the shoulder, declaring, “I’m it!”

With the problem resolved, the other three boys dashed off to separate ends of the yard to avoid Carlos. With a couple reassuring pats to his trusty helmet, Carlos was off, trying to catch his friends and tag them.

A few minutes of blind running left Logan, James, and Kendall clueless as to Carlos’s location. They all exchanged confused looks, but no one had any insight.

Then there was an earsplitting scream and Logan found himself on the ground, Carlos on top of him laughing. “You’re it!” Carlos cheered, standing up off of Logan, but the smaller boy stayed on the ground.

James and Kendall, who had witnessed Carlos jumping from the tree and onto Logan, ran over to Logan’s side. “Carlos, we  _ just _ said no tackles,” Kendall said.

“You broke Logan!” James added, trying to help the raven-haired boy off the ground.

“That wasn’t a  _ tackle _ ,” Carlos demanded. “It was a  _ dive-bomb.” _

“Fine, then no dive-bombs. No tree climbing either. That’s not fair,” Kendall said. Puffing out his cheeks in frustration, Carlos crossed his arms, but he didn’t protest. Once Logan was upright again and seemed okay enough, Kendall declared, “Carlos is still it!”

For a while, the game ran smoothly. The title of ‘it’ changed hands for a few rounds and the boys enjoyed laughter and drained some energy before any other problems sprang up.

Then, Kendall was tagged by Carlos. “That doesn’t count, this is base,” said Kendall, pointing to the tree he’d been standing next to.

“We don’t have a base,” Carlos said pointedly. “ _ And _ you weren’t even touching it.”

“We  _ do _ have a base and you don’t  _ have _ to be touching it. It’s still a base.”

Logan and James were approaching, wondering why the game had fallen to yet another standstill. “Guys, don’t we  _ not _ have a base?” Carlos asked, looking for support.

“I don’t think so,” Logan said, though he couldn’t really remember.

“Yeah, we did,” James said, Kendall getting a smug look from the agreeance. “But it wasn’t that tree. It was that one,” he said, pointing to the other end of the yard.

“Nuh-uh, it was totally this tree,” Kendall countered, face falling again.

“It was no trees!” Carlos said. “We don’t have a base!”

“You guys are totally unfair! I don’t wanna play anymore!” Kendall insisted, stomping off and out of Carlos’s backyard entirely.

“Well I don’t wanna play  _ either!” _ Carlos yelled after him, marching back into his own house.

“Fine!” shouted James, heading toward his bike in the front yard so he could ride home.

Logan was left behind, confused as to why they couldn’t even play tag without fighting. He headed home dejected, but assured himself that they would all be hanging out again tomorrow at the latest. Despite having stupid fights, they never stayed mad at each other for long.


	11. Bummer Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I hate it when people laugh at me. Like that one time at summer camp when those guys put a sign on my back that said ‘fart on me.’”  
> “We said we were sorry!”

After a lot of pestering and begging and tantrums, Kendall, James, Carlos, and Logan were all finally given permission to go to summer camp. Camp Wonky Donkey, advertised as the happiest place on earth for children of all ages, was essentially every third grader’s dream. As far as they could tell, there was no school, no parents, and they spent the whole day outside, which was basically the epitome of the ideal day for these boys.

Of course, once the boys got there, they found out that Camp Wonky Donkey was actually a heavily-scheduled institution made to control them from the time they woke up to the time they went to bed at night. A lot of the days were filled with indoor activities--essentially a crime against humanity with such a perfect campground just outside--and the boys were getting really sick of arts and crafts.

Macaroni art was the last straw for Kendall Knight.

“I’m sick of this,” Kendall hissed, spiking his glue bottle on the table and crossing his arms. The other three boys paused in their art and looked up. “I wanna go  _ outside.” _

“But all the fifth graders are outside,” Logan reminded him, sounding a little nervous.

Carlos took a raw noodle from the tub and popped it in his mouth like it was a snack, earning disgusted looks from the others. Before Logan could interject with talk of germs, Carlos said, “How come they get to be outside so much while we’re stuck in here?”

“Probably because the counselors are afraid of them,” James suggested.

“They wouldn’t be afraid of fifth graders,” Logan said matter-of-factly.

James raised his eyebrows. “Um, have you  _ seen _ that kid Tommy? His foot is the size of my  _ head.” _

“Tommy’s the kid who pushed Logan down yesterday morning!” Carlos said, eyes lighting up with realization. Logan stayed quiet, trying to avoid that subject.

“What a jerk!” Kendall added. “We should get him back.” Kendall’s eyes lit with a devilish fury, leaving the other three boys clueless and a little nervous as to what the blond was planning.

It wasn’t until after dark that Kendall finally let the guys in on his plan. Logan had opted to stay in bed, as it was way past their bedtime and he was all tuckered out from the day, so James, Carlos, and Kendall reluctantly left their fourth member back at the cabin. After they were gone, Logan used what little energy he had left to make the beds look occupied, leaving the other three a better chance of staying out of trouble.

Once outside, under the cover of moonlit darkness, Kendall revealed a marker and a piece of paper from the day’s earlier crafts. James and Carlos looked from Kendall to the paper, and back again, hoping that the secret use for the objects would reveal themselves because they just weren’t getting it.

Seeing the blank stares, Kendall’s grin faltered. “We’re gonna make a sign and stick it on Tommy’s back so that everyone will laugh at him, duh,” Kendall said with a roll of his eyes.

“Ohh,” James said and Carlos gave an understanding nod. “So what’s it gonna say?”

Kendall tapped the marker against his chin, then pulled off the lid. “I’ve got it, look.” He scrawled a short message on the paper, then capped the marker with an evil laugh. James and Carlos joined in, seeing the words printed on the page. Now, all they had to do was slap it on Tommy’s back and revenge would be theirs.

A noise startled the boys and they immediately sprinted behind their cabin, peeking out into the darkness to see what they had heard. They squinted to identify the dark figure walking along the path, but it wasn’t really clear who it was.

“Wait, is that Tommy?” Carlos asked, squinting his eyes even harder.

Kendall snorted, a smile spreading across his face. “I thought we were gonna have to sneak into his cabin, but this is way easier.”

The three boys tried to quietly sneak up behind Tommy, who they saw now was headed toward the bathrooms. In one swift, not-so-silent motion, James slapped the paper onto the boy’s back, a satisfying yelp following. Then, just as soon as it had happened, the boys were gone, dashing back to their cabin in blind revelry. Fits of giggles practically woke all their cabin mates, but they quickly stifled it and buried their heads in their pillows, trying to get to sleep.

* * *

 

The next morning, Kendall, Carlos, and James were still laughing about their success from the previous night. They’d hardly slept at all, leaving them disheveled and tired at breakfast, but adrenaline still pumped through their young veins.

“Tommy totally screamed like a girl!” Carlos laughed for at least the fourth time that morning.

With a dying chuckle, Kendall said, “Yeah. Hey, where’s Logan?”

“I think he went to the bathroom,” James said. “He has to go  _ all the time.” _ Carlos and Kendall nodded knowingly and continued their breakfast and celebrating.

The laughter didn’t stop until Kendall’s eyes went wide. “Uh oh,” he muttered, fork slipping back onto his tray. Carlos and James turned to see what their friend was looking at, their eyes going wide as well when they saw. “We have to tell him,” Kendall insisted as the other two turned back to face him.

“But if we do he’ll know we did it,” James said.

“But if we  _ don’t _ everyone’s gonna laugh at him,” Kendall countered. The two were at an impasse, leaving Carlos biting his lip and looking wide-eyed between them. Realizing that he was the tiebreaker, James and Kendall turned to the smaller boy expectantly.

Carlos opened his mouth, but no words came out. He just didn’t have an answer. Unfortunately, they were too late. The whole mess hall was laughing as Logan walked across to the table where his friends were sitting, his face beginning to fall in uncertainty and embarrassment. When Logan reached the table, his confidence was all but demolished. He sat down silently, head down and hands fidgeting nervously.

An obnoxious laugh overcame all the others. “Looks like someone pranked the little nerd baby!” Tommy chortled, burning a hole through the top of Logan’s head with his glare. With another vicious laugh, Tommy turned and let a massive fart rip in Logan’s direction, then walked off. The entire table was soon taken over by the fume and Logan’s eyes began to well with tears--though no one was sure if it was from embarrassment or fumes.

Kendall began to seethe. Despite being the accidental cause of Logan’s embarrassment, Tommy making it worse only made him impossibly angry. He swiftly ripped the sign off of Logan’s back, crumpling it and dropping it on the floor, and then whirled on the fifth grader. “Hey! Leave Logan alone!”

James and Carlos, who had previously been plugging their noses to escape the smell, immediately joined Kendall’s stance against Tommy. The three third graders puffed out their chests the best they could, but were nowhere near a match for the approaching man-beast that was Tommy. “What’d you say?” he hissed, nostrils flaring like a mad bull.

Kendall only wavered slightly before he stood even taller, practically on his tippy-toes. “I said leave him alone, you jerk! Logan’s our friend and you can’t talk to him like that!”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” said Tommy. “Three babies?”

Kendall threw the first punch--or rather, kick--straight to Tommy’s shin, but it hardly made him wince. The next moment, Kendall was being lifted from the ground by his shirt collar, now eye to eye with the behemoth that was his foe. In order to free Kendall, Carlos braced himself and ran headfirst into Tommy, surprising him and causing him to drop the blond. Kendall fell with a thud and witnessed James going straight for the older boy’s ankles, trying to knock him over from the bottom.

Unfortunately, Tommy was much bigger and stronger, and got a few good, painful hits in before the counselors showed up to break up the fight. Kendall, James, and Carlos were sent to the nurse’s cabin, where they got ice for their fresh bruises and black eyes. Logan visited them as soon as he was allowed to, and Kendall felt the need to come clean.

“Sorry, Logan,” Kendall started.

Carlos focused on icing his arm-burn as he spoke. “Yeah, sorry we put that ‘fart on me’ sign on your back.”

Logan was surprised, the mystery all coming together. “How’d you even mistake me for Tommy?” he asked.

“It was dark,” said James, as if it were obvious.

“He’s way taller than me, though!”

_ “It was dark,” _ insisted James again.

Accepting the explanation, Logan sighed. “I forgive you.” The small boy joined his friend’s on the nurse’s cot, but the other three quickly recoiled. “What?”

With his nose scrunched, Kendall answered, “You still kinda smell like fart.”


	12. Puppy Love

“Now roll over!” Carlos goaded. All eyes were on the small puppy as they awaited his response. Happily and with wagging tail, Sparky crashed to the ground, tumbling onto his back and then back into a standing position, earning cheers from the four boys overhead.

A chorus of “Good dog” and “Way to go, Sparky,” along with eight grubby hands scratching and petting all over him only pleased the pup more. Carlos’s dog was practically the fifth, honorary member of the friend group, and often acted as a source of entertainment or a companion on grand adventures.

“Sparky’s the coolest dog ever,” Logan said, awestricken as he scratched behind the animal’s ears. Of course, he didn’t have any experience with other dogs--or animals at all, for that matter--but as far as he knew, Sparky was cream of the crop.

“Yup,” Carlos agreed. “He’s super smart and fun and fast.”

“How fast?” James asked. He laughed happily as Sparky pressed his wet nose into the brunet’s palm, leaving it slimy and warm. “Like racecar fast?”

“No way he’s  _ that _ fast,” Kendall interjected. “Racecars are like the fastest thing on the planet.”

Carlos puffed his cheeks out in exasperation. Kendall was questioning his dog’s skills and that was about as offensive as questioning Carlos himself. “Sparky could totally run faster than a racecar.”

“He couldn’t even run faster than  _ me,” _ Kendall said. Naturally, Kendall thought he was extremely knowledgeable on animals and their travel speeds.

Furrowing his brows, Carlos stood tall against Kendall, trying to puff himself up. “You wanna bet? He could totally beat you in a race.”

Immediately, James and Logan were invested in the scene. They began instigating, chanting, “Race! Race! Race!” as the other two boys faced off.

“Nuh-uh! I’ll race him and I’ll win!” Kendall insisted. He examined the street from Carlos’s front yard. “We’ll run from your front door to mine and  _ see _ who’s faster.”

With a nod of agreement, Carlos guided Sparky to his front door, Kendall following closely behind. “Come on, Sparky, you’re super fast, you can totally do this.” He tried his best to relay the path to the dog, but it was hard with the apparent communication barrier. Still, Sparky stood obediently on the doorstep, waiting for someone to give him a command.

Kendall kneeled next to the animal, hands pressed to the hot concrete like he’d seen racers on television do. His eyes were locked on their target, his body was coiled and ready to spring. Before anyone could declare the start, James spoke up. “What’s the prize?”

“Glory?” Logan suggested, only to hear Kendall scoff.

“Lame!” The blond untensed, turning to Carlos so they could come to an agreement. “If Sparky wins, I’ll give you my whole piggy bank.”

“That’s like three dollars,” James said with a roll of his eyes, but Kendall shot him a glare that shut him up.

“And if you win, you get mine,” Carlos agreed. The two spit-shook on the deal, and Kendall curled back into his racing position.

Logan stood at the end of the street, making sure cars weren’t going to hit them when they ran out, and James stood between the two racers, hands raised and ready to start the race. When he got the thumbs up from Logan, James dropped his arms with a roaring, “GO!”

Kendall was off before Carlos could even tell Sparky to run, but the dog was spry and swift. Sparky was right on Kendall’s heels, practically nipping at them as he ran. The two made it to the street, passing Logan with his thumb still out as he watched for traffic. Boy and dog sprinted forward, Sparky’s tongue lolling in the wind and Kendall’s eyes squinted in concentration.

Carlos and James cheered wildly, caught up in the action. It was neck and neck. Paw and foot hit pavement in perfect synchronization. The shouts heightened as grass returned under the racers’ feet. The race was almost over, even Logan was shouting and screeching now.

Kendall slammed into his front door with full force. Sparky leapt onto the blond, happily licking at his face. Though out of breath, Kendall still found himself laughing at the rough tongue and gross slobber that was attacking him, and soon he was joined by the other three boys.

Carlos looked dejected, but couldn't bear to glare at his dog. The puppy was so innocently happy. “No fair, Sparky didn’t know it was a race!” Carlos tried, but Kendall shook his head.

“I won. I get your piggy bank.” With a victorious grin, Kendall watched Carlos trudge back to his house to retrieve the prize. He had his arms lifted, James and Logan on either side celebrating his victory.

Once the initial euphoria dwindled, Kendall, Logan, and James found themselves back in the grass, rolling around and petting Sparky. Even after Carlos returned and handed over his promised bet, the four boys were extremely happy to have a dog like Sparky to play with.


	13. You're Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll be there to hold you. I’ll stay ‘til it’s over and you know, you know, you know, that you’re not alone.”

Kendall’s first father’s day after his dad left was one of the hardest days of his life. It didn’t feel  _ right _ to not be celebrating, but there wasn’t anything to celebrate. He spent a majority of the day curled up in bed, crying into his pillow. Half of that time was spent missing his dad, and the other half was anger at himself for wanting someone like his dad back.

Luckily, Kendall knew that his friends would be out celebrating with their own dads all day and wouldn’t see him crying. They wouldn’t try to get him outside and he wouldn’t have to pretend to be happy. It was a lot more tiring than it looked pretending to be in a good mood.

As the hot afternoon sun began to fill in Kendall’s room through the window, there was a timid knock on his bedroom door. “Go away,” the blond groaned into his pillow. He assumed it was his mom trying to comfort him again.

“Are you okay?” came the timid voice of Logan, hardly loud enough to be heard. Kendall hadn’t heard Logan come over at all.

He began wiping at his face, trying to make himself look as normal and content as possible. Logan of all people didn’t need to see him crying, but he couldn’t keep the kid out. It would only look more suspicious. After a moment and a couple of deep breaths, Kendall shuffled to his bedroom door and cracked it open, meeting Logan’s eyes. “Why aren’t you at home with your dad?” Kendall muttered, a little more sharply than he had intended.

Logan’s eyes immediately fell to the floor. “I don't have a dad,” Logan said. “He died a while ago.” The smaller boy’s frame trembled just at the mention of the subject.

The door was thrown wide and Kendall quickly wrapped his arms around Logan, both boys burying their heads in the other’s shoulder. “I don’t have one either. Mine left last year.” Kendall had never really talked about it before and there was something lightening about finally telling someone.

Before they parted their hug, both boys could feel the tears pricking their eyes. Kendall was the first to pull back, wiping at his eyes and trying to stop the flow of tears. Logan’s big, brown eyes locked with Kendall’s, equally tear-stained and shimmery, and he managed a weak, but reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, Kendall, my mom says it’ll get better.”

Kendall nodded, matching the dark-haired boy’s smile. “Yeah, my mom says that, too.”

Father’s Day didn’t go by without incident, but Logan and Kendall kept each other company when tears started falling and the memories got to be too much. They tried to keep their minds off of the holiday and distracted each other with games and stories. It wasn’t even one of those times where Kendall was pretending to be happy. He was genuinely grateful for Logan’s company and the presence of someone who understood.

Sure, neither Logan nor Kendall had a dad for Father’s Day, but at least they had each other.


	14. Tea with the Queen of Cute

Katie had been a demanding little girl from the time she was born. She knew what she wanted and wouldn’t settle for any less, even if she had to find her own way to get it. Usually, Kendall was willing to oblige when Katie reached desperately for a toy or chattered and chirped because she wanted _just one more cookie._ He liked seeing his sister happy.

But there were still a few things that Kendall wasn’t exactly on board with.

Kendall sat in the living room, sister leaning against the couch across from him and watching, while he played with action figures on the floor. He was knee deep in some intense story of superheroes and villains when Katie grabbed one of the figures on the ground.

“Kenny, play?” she asked, shaking the toy in her brother’s direction. ‘Kendall’ had always been a little hard for her to say, but he didn’t really mind the nickname.

“You wanna play superheroes with me?” Kendall responded, looking up and reaching out for the toy. She probably wouldn’t understand the intricacies of the world he’d created, but he didn’t mind letting her do _something._

“Play tea,” Katie told him. She jerked her arm back so Kendall couldn’t get the toy from her and continued shaking it around. “Play tea,” she repeated.

Katie’s favorite activity as of late had been hosting tea parties with stuffed animals and imaginary snacks. Kendall had done a decent job of avoiding those by spending a lot of time with his friends and leaving the room before his little sister could lock onto him. Her big, brown doe-eyes were already at full force, aimed right for him, but the little boy held strong.

“I’m not having a tea party,” Kendall said firmly.

“Play tea, Kenny,” Katie said again. It wasn’t a question. Katie wanted to play tea with Kendall and she was determined to make it happen.

“No, I don’t want to. Tea parties are for little girls.” Reasoning with a toddler wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to do, but it was better than being forced into a tea party.

Katie was hardly paying attention to her brother’s protests. She was already pulling herself up and toddling off to her room to set up the game. Kendall wouldn’t have followed her, only she still had his action figure clamped in her grubby hands and he wasn’t about to let it disappear into the confines of her room. He hopped up and chased after her.

When he burst through the already half-open door to Katie’s room, she was in the midst of setting up the pink, plastic table where she commonly hosted her tea parties. When he entered, Katie’s attention immediately turned to him and not the action figure that she was placing in one of the little, plastic chairs. “Sit, Kenny,” she said, waddling over and grabbing his hand.

“I don’t wanna play tea party with you,” Kendall told her, point-blank. “Tea parties are dumb.”

Her brother’s disdain was finally getting through, but Katie was stubborn. Hand still clamped onto his, she looked straight up at her brother and used the deadly face that she’d grown very fond of. Her big, brown eyes shimmered with pleas and innocence. Her tiny, bottom lip stuck out in a hopeless pout. It was all Kendall could do to look at her without breaking down.

“I don’t want to,” he tried, but his anger was wavering. Katie was cute and she knew it.

“Play tea, Kenny?” she asked. It sounded like she was on the verge of tears--another tactic that would ultimately end with Kendall in a small, plastic chair playing tea if she needed to make use of it. He was doomed.

“Okay fine,” Kendall told her with a huff. He was immediately led over to the table and scrunched into one of the toddler-sized chairs. He wasn’t happy about it, but the tea party was going to happen whether he liked it or not.

Kendall played by Katie’s rules as best as he could, no matter how ridiculous the whole thing seemed. He politely drank the imaginary tea she poured into his cup. He talked to the stuffed animals beside him when he was told to. And when Katie donned her tiara, he referred to her as Princess Katie, and respectfully bowed to her. It wasn’t so bad, especially seeing the infectious smile plastered across her round face the whole time.

The real torment was when Mrs. Knight found the two and broke out the camera. Kendall no longer wanted to smile and he definitely wasn’t having fun. There was nothing worse than his mom having pictures of him at a stupid, girly tea party.

Well, there was one thing.

Kendall had forgotten he’d planned to play street hockey with the guys later that day and, when later rolled around, he was still in the midst of Katie’s fantasy. James, Carlos, and Logan caught the blond off guard and Kendall was immediately faced with Carlos’s obnoxious laughter.

“Shut up!” he hissed, curling in on himself in hopes of disappearing completely. His face must have been bright crimson. Carlos did not shut up.

Katie, however, was immediately enthralled with their company. Holding out a tiny tea cup to the three boys, she sweetly asked, “Play tea?”

“We’re gonna play  _ hockey,” _ James told her, waving the hockey stick. “But I guess Kendall’s busy,” he teased.

_ “Shut up!” _ Kendall tried again. It was futile.

The tenacious toddler knew her foes well, and took control of their weaknesses. She reached her arms out to Logan, the most sensitive and compassionate of the three, eyes wide and innocent, and tried again. “Play tea,  _ please?” _

It was almost impossible for Logan to resist Katie’s cuteness. Logan looked to Kendall for some kind of reassurance or sign, but he merely turned to find Kendall curled in the pink chair, face hidden in his knees from embarrassment. For once, Logan made a spur of the moment decision. “Okay, I’ll play,” he said with a smile.

James, Carlos, and Kendall all looked up in amazement, but Logan stood proud as he was escorted to the table and sat right next to his blond friend. He didn’t even realize it, but Logan had single-handedly relieved the tension in the room. Kendall’s embarrassment was all but gone and James and Carlos were much less defensive.

“You play tea, too?” Katie asked the two boys still standing. There was a moment of consideration, but really, their masculinity wasn’t going to come into question at this point. They were doing it for  _ Katie. _ With reluctant shrugs, they dropped their hockey gear and took their too-small seats at the table.

When Mrs. Knight returned to check on the kids, she almost didn’t believe her eyes. But she certainly believed the photographs.


	15. Boca Sucia

It was an accident the first time.

Carlos landed hard on his back after a high jump off the swings on the playground. It hurt so much he wanted to shriek, but he didn’t. He just copied his older siblings.

_ “¡Mierda!” _

No one even heard it.

The second time, they were playing street hockey. Carlos and Logan were losing  _ bad _ to James and Kendall. It wasn’t even a fair game. The other two guys had a real tendency to cheat. Another shot straight past him, and the word slipped out.

_ “¡Cabron!” _

That time Logan heard it in passing, but of course he didn’t know what it meant. When he asked Carlos, all he got was a shrug in return. Carlos didn’t really know what it meant either. He just knew it was something to say when he was angry.

Soon it became a habit. The simplest inconveniences would cause Carlos to slip out a  _ “Cojeme” _ or a “ _ Pendejo.” _ Bullies and annoying kids on the playground would elicit a muttered  _ “Chingate” _ and  _ “Perra.” _ By the time he got the courage to say it louder, he was cursing like a sailor.

The first time Kendall and James heard Carlos talking like that, they certainly didn’t know what it meant, but they knew it was bad. The rebellious and uncharted territory of cursing evoked quiet giggles and impressed awe. It only encouraged Carlos to get louder and for Kendall and James to begin copying him every now and then--fortunately, Logan had better sense.

When someone outside their friend group heard it, they immediately assumed it was something rude--and, of course they weren’t wrong. They took offense to it, threatened telling their parents, threatened beating up the shrimpy boy. But they didn’t. Carlos kept getting away with it and it only encouraged him to be bolder, more reckless.

The first person who actually knew what the words meant was Carlos’s brother, Zachary. After all, most of the words had originally come from his mouth, and his little brother was merely a parrot for all the wrong things. Zach tried to keep Carlos’s mouth shut and tell him the words were bad and wrong and dirty. He just made himself sound like a hypocrite, really. Carlos didn’t even bother to listen.

And Carlos really should have listened.

When Mrs. Garcia heard the words her baby boy had been saying, they didn’t even come from his mouth. In a bout of goaded confidence, Kendall spit the word out over a plate of cookies, trying to mask it with a cough. He failed, and Mrs. Garcia was livid.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where Kendall had learned that kind of language. Carlos was questioned and quickly confessed to his crimes, leaving only one course of action.

The first time Carlos had his mouth washed out with soap was not something he looked back on fondly. It tasted disgusting and his mother wasn’t gentle about it, either. It left behind a gross film on his tongue, reminding him every time he thought about letting one of those dreaded words slip past his lips. It worked.

Carlos didn’t curse anymore.


	16. Young Volcanoes

“Why can’t we go outside to play?” Carlos asked for the fifth time that afternoon. The boys lay sprawled out on Kendall’s living room couch, eyes locked on a cartoon they’d dubbed themselves too old for. The remote was too far away, and the boys were too lazy to reach for it.

“Mom’s mowing the lawn, _ remember?” _ Kendall said. He didn’t understand how Carlos could keep forgetting. They could hear the buzz of the lawn mower from where they were sitting. “We have to stay in here until she’s done.”

Carlos threw his arms wide with exasperation, smacking Logan and James in the face. “Well we have to do  _ something _ or I’m gonna die of boredom.”

James promptly pushed Carlos’s arm off of him, and Logan wriggled out from under the other arm, sitting himself up. Still, no one had any suggestions to cure Carlos’s boredom. He had the shortest attention span of all and only the perfect solution would satisfy him.

Looking around at his friends, a grin stretched across the dark-haired boy’s face. Curiosity visibly showed on the other three boys’ faces. Standing dramatically with bare feet spread in a powerful stance, Carlos put his hands on his hips and shouted, “THE FLOOR IS LAVA.”

The words sparked enthusiasm and alertness in the other three as Carlos jumped from the couch to the coffee table. Kendall, James, and Logan all scrambled to their feet and began maneuvering their way through the living room via the furniture. They didn’t have long before sabotage was fair game, and they had to batten down the hatches as soon as possible.

Kendall launched the first strike, the last one left on the couch and commandeering it for himself. He took the pillow that had previously been underneath his head and tossed it like a frisbee, aiming for the back of James’s head. The brunet, who’d been avidly scaling the bookshelf behind the couch, stumbled for a minute, but held firm. He wasn’t going down without a fight.

Logan had managed to jam himself in the entertainment center, using the TV for cover. It was the safest place in the living room--practically unbeatable--and the whole group knew it. But it also made Logan the biggest target. If they could get him out, his safe haven would be up for grabs again, and the race for the best base would be back on.

Another pillow was launched from the couch, but it merely bounced off the TV and thudded to the floor. Kendall’s ammo was running out fast and Logan was well-protected. The smaller boy stuck his tongue out through a victorious grin and Kendall seethed.

A familiar sound pulled Kendall from his focus. The quick  _ tap, tap _ of Carlos slapping a hand onto his helmet. It usually signalled that Carlos was about to do something reckless and stupid. That’s when three heads snapped to the coffee table, where Carlos had previously been, and eyes widened when he was no longer there.

With a battle cry, Carlos revealed his location on the stair railing. It was almost impossible to imagine how he’d shimmied his way over there, yet there he was, perched atop the slender rail, eyes locked on James. He dove forward and slammed hard against the bookshelf, hands hardly catching the edge. The wicked grin on his friend’s face told James that he was doomed, and the brunet tried in vain to scramble to a lower shelf.

Quick and surefooted, the helmeted warrior had already tucked himself into the top shelf and was happily dropping books onto his foe underneath him. A couple thick paperbacks to the face, and James was down for the count. He couldn’t manage to keep his balance and soon he was tumbling to the floor, the first one out of the running.

He grumbled and crossed his arms, staying put in the pile of novels. “No fair. How’d you even get up there anyway?” he mumbled, more to himself than Carlos. The small, Hispanic boy had always been agile in games like this.

Kendall’s final pillow went flying, this time locked onto Carlos’s position. It hit him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him, but Carlos was tucked comfortably in the shelf and it did nothing to loosen him. With a vicious look in his eye, Carlos fired the pillow straight back, nearly knocking the blond off the sofa with the force.

Then Kendall felt something plush knock into his back. He turned to see Logan stretching for Katie’s stuffed animals--which were stashed in every room and never far out of reach. It was an attack on all sides. Both Logan and Carlos were coming for Kendall, hoping to knock him out so that he couldn’t take the crown from them later. Stuck in the middle of the room, Kendall didn’t have a chance. He had no cover and no weapons.

As a last resort, Kendall used all his might to pull a cushion from the couch. It was heavier than he was and he struggled to keep a grip on it, but it served useful when Carlos started chucking books at him. He pressed his back against the cushion, breathing hard from the exertion and trying to think of a plan.

After a quick scan of the area, Kendall’s eyes fell upon the stuffed bear that Logan had thrown at him only moments before. It rested on the floor, just under the opposite side of the coffee table. All Kendall had to do was reach it and he’d be armed once again. He’d have  _ something _ to fight back with. He took a chance to look back at the bookshelf, seeing Carlos readying another barrage of books. Logan was still vying for the plush rabbit, his little arm just too short.

In the momentary cease fire, Kendall dove forward for the toy. It seemed like a clear shot, until he slid straight across the polished surface and hit the ground with a  _ thump. _ He lay on his belly, defeated and ashamed, and his face burned when he heard Carlos laughing from above him.

The game came back full force after Kendall joined James at the base of the bookshelf. With the losers out of the line of fire, Carlos and Logan locked eyes. The game was on. It was a battle of the superior bases and would certainly go down in history.

Carlos chucked books while Logan was still exposed, reaching desperately for the only ammo he would have the chance to fire. By the time he’d grabbed the rabbit and Logan had pulled himself back into the safe crevice of his base, Carlos had practically exhausted his supply of novels. Going to a lower shelf would mean facing Logan at an angle he could  _ definitely _ get hit from, and that could compromise his whole game. His rapid firing halted so as not to waste the ammo he had left.

The tension was thick. Everything was still. James and Kendall practically gave themselves whiplash trying to see who would make the first move.

“What happened in here?!” Mrs. Knight shrieked. She stood at the backdoor, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and grass stains on her summer clothes. In front of her sat the wasteland of the almost-finished battle between the boys, nothing more than a mess in her eyes. “Carlos, get off the bookshelf. Logan, out from behind the TV. And clean this stuff up!”

A glare was shot to each boy individually for good measure, and Mrs. Knight left the room to get cleaned up. She walked out, grumbling under her breath about how she can’t leave for  _ five minutes _ without something going awry. The boys watched her go, terror in their eyes.

Carlos only poked out far enough to see Mrs. Knight disappear down the hallway. He was still debating whether or not to follow her orders when something crashed into his side and knocked him off balance. The rabbit wouldn’t have hurt so bad if it hadn’t been one of those talking stuffed animals, with the little plastic voice boxes inside, but it was enough to knock him off balance.

As soon as Carlos met floor, the room erupted. Kendall and James were cheering wildly, celebrating the victory of Logan, the kid who hardly won anything because he was so timid and careful. They roared for the genius of his plan and the memory of the moment that rabbit went airborne. Carlos was defeated.

Mrs. Knight ran back in, having heard all the ruckus, but all four boys were on the floor, safe and supposedly unharmed. With one final glance, Mrs. Knight returned to her room, suspicious of the massive grins on the boys’ faces.


	17. A Heartfelt Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I was seven, I didn't know what I was doing!"

It had been almost a year since Logan had moved to town and unpacked boxes still sat in front of closets and stuffed under beds. Out of the entire house, Logan’s room had the most unpacked boxes leftover. Despite how permanent Mrs. Mitchell promised this move was, the little boy was still unsure and wanted to leave things in their boxes just in case. Besides, the room he had now was significantly smaller than his last one and the boxes made everything feel more organized. He didn’t really need anything in those packages anyway. They weren’t hurting anything, so he let them be.

After a lot of pestering and  _ a lot _ of trust-building, Kendall, James, and Carlos talked Logan into cracking open those boxes. Their curiosity had gotten the better of them. It was like he was  _ hiding _ something and friends didn’t hide things from each other.

The boys quickly delved into box after box of toys that Logan hardly ever thought about. Plastic dinosaurs and toy cars and airsoft guns alike. All things that Logan found a lot more fun now. All things that he enjoyed much more now that he had friends. All four of them would stop and ogle each different object, playing with it until something shinier and more colorful caught their eye. Soon the floor was littered with Logan’s old things.

Logan’s bedroom was filled with awestricken chatter. “Wow, this is so cool!” “Where did you even find this?” “Why is this at the bottom of this box? It’s awesome!” Comment after comment came out, excited grins usually reserved for Christmas morning staining their faces.

Then James said, “Why do you have this?”

Absentmindedly, the dark-haired boy looked up from the box he was digging through. He expected to see some old, broken toy that he’d forgotten about. Something that maybe he’d kept for sentimental reasons. He didn’t expect to see  _ that. _

His face paled as he stared at the object James was turning over in his hand. It was just a portable, battery-powered fan that convenience stores and gift shops sold to desperate travelers and tourists on hot days. Blue plastic and white foam that wasn’t worth more than a buck fifty. Logan snatched it from James’s hand and threw it into a box, slamming the lid closed. He couldn’t even look at it.

Now everyone was looking at him, concern over their faces. The room had gone silent. “It doesn’t matter. It’s nothing,” Logan finally muttered.

They weren’t about to let  _ that _ go.

Kendall moved toward the box, but Logan blocked his path. “Come on, you can tell us, Logie,” the blond teased. “What’s so special about a fan anyway?”

“It’s--I don’t remember,” Logan tried, shrugging. It wasn’t convincing, especially since he was guarding that box with his life and sweating like a maniac.

“Come on, we won’t tell anyone,” Carlos promised. He followed Kendall’s lead, approaching Logan and the box like one might approach a stray, frightened animal. James was right behind him.

“Was it a present or something?” James asked.

Carlos scoffed. “A fan? What a lame present.”

“No,” Logan said. At least that wasn’t a lie. “Just forget it.”

It was hopeless. No matter how Logan turned, he couldn’t defend the box from all three of the guys. They weren’t going to give in. When James grabbed him, he didn’t even struggle. He knew it was futile. Carlos and Kendall ripped the box back open and pulled out the fan. Kendall flipped up the switch, letting the cool air blow onto his and Carlos’s faces.

“Where’d you get it?” James asked, releasing Logan to join the other two in front of the fan.

Logan gnawed his lip nervously. After a moment of hesitation, he sighed. “I-I stole it...”

The boys couldn’t believe their ears. The idea of Logan stealing something-- _ anything _ \--baffled them. But the fan was nothing but junk. It wasn’t like he’d stolen something that anyone would really miss. “That’s it?” Carlos asked.

Nodding, Logan looked down at the floor. “I didn’t mean to. I picked it up and forgot to put it back. And then we got home and I still had it. I was too scared to tell anyone so I just kept it.”

Despite wanting to laugh at the utter triviality of the situation, the boys held it back. It was obvious that Logan was really upset by this. His guilt-ridden conscience was finally bubbling back up. They could almost hear when the tears started falling.

Kendall switched the fan off and threw it onto the bed. “I bet no one even noticed,” he said with a shrug.

“Yeah, no one’s gonna miss it, so don’t worry about it,” James said.

Logan sniffled. “You think?” he asked timidly.

The three boys nodded. Carlos added, “Well yeah, it’s been like  _ forever _ anyway, right? And no one ever found out. They’ve forgotten by now for sure.”

Wiping the stray tears from his eyes, Logan nodded. He’d never really thought of it that way, but it made him feel a lot better. It’d been a  _ year _ and no one had ever said anything. He’d hardly even thought about it since he’d moved to Shakopee, Minnesota, so why would anyone else have? Still, he grabbed the fan from the bed and threw it into a stray box, wanting to put it out of his mind.

There was no closure to the situation. The boys just began rifling through the boxes again, playing with all the cool toys they found. Soon, the entire situation was practically forgotten, just as it had been when Logan buried the fan in the boxes the first time. It didn’t really matter. Everything would be okay.

Everything would be okay.


	18. Makeup Believe

The guys didn’t hang out at James’s house a lot and that was fine by him. His mom was a busy woman, always off pitching beauty products and patronizing potential customers, and hardly ever had time to babysit. His dad didn’t care for the responsibility that came with the four hellions and often pawned them off on one of the other parents. None of the boys minded, though, seeing as James’s house had been baby-proofed since the day he was born and anything entertaining was hidden away in a secret location they had yet to find.

Spending the day at the Diamond household usually resulted in them doing “quiet activities” and going home with their duffel bags and backpacks mysteriously weighted down with Brooke Diamond Cosmetics. It was worse than timeout, if only for the fact that Mrs. Diamond actually thought they were having fun.

Still, some days they ended up over there, sitting quietly in the pristine living room and waiting for their moms to come and pick them up. Finally, James was sick of it.

“I’m  _ bored _ and we’re gonna do something  _ fun  _ for once,” he decided, hopping off the recliner and turning to his friends. His confidence made them perk up.

“But what are we gonna do?” Logan asked with a shrug. “Your mom put all the cool stuff where we can’t find it.”

Carlos huffed. “I still say it’s all crammed in a secret room behind a bookshelf or something.”

James stammered, at a loss for words. Frankly, he hadn’t really thought it through when he stood up originally. Luckily, Kendall stood up and stood beside him. “If we can’t  _ find _ the fun, we’ll make up our own!” he decided.

It sounded good enough to them.

The boys scoured the whole house, searching from something-- _ anything _ they could use to have a good time. First, they pillaged the kitchen. Logan perched carefully on Kendall’s back as he dug through the refrigerator. He pushed aside gross, healthy snacks and went for the high shelves. When he turned back around, Logan sported a huge grin and an armful of pudding cups.

After the snacks had been guzzled and the kitchen thrown into disarray, the boys moved on to the study. It was imperative that they remained quiet, but it was a difficult task as they scaled the bookshelves and played King of the Hill with the massive desk acting as their hill. Books avalanched out of place, papers got kicked out from under wriggly, bare feet, and pens were shot like missiles, nearly missing eyes at every angle. Carlos even had the chance to test his theory, pulling almost every book off the shelf before giving up his search for the secret fun room.

This went on for a long while, until the entire house looked like a hurricane of reckless partiers had passed through, and the boys all found themselves in the bathroom at the end of the hall. It was the last room they could safely go in without getting caught--they had come too far to be mindless  _ now. _

“What are we gonna do in  _ here?” _ Carlos asked as he stood on his tiptoes, balanced carefully on the toilet, and reached for the door to the medicine cabinet.

Kendall had just pulled his foot onto the counter when he turned and said, “There’s gotta be something in here, there was everywhere else.”

“What about toilet paper?” James asked, tossing the roll in the air and catching it over and over. He was met with disappointed glances and grunts.

“We’ll save it for backup,” said Kendall. He was now straddling the sink, hands planted firmly on the mirror. He could hear Logan going through the cabinet right beneath him. In the mirror, he could see as the dark-haired boy pulled things out and put them aside. A toilet brush. A huge squeeze-bottle of hand soap. A half-empty bag of tiny, plastic cups. All useless.

Frustrated, Kendall gripped the sides of the mirror. What he was trying to accomplish, he wasn’t sure, but what he  _ did _ accomplish was a miracle. The boys could practically hear the choir of angels as the mirror pulled back, revealing a cabinet behind it. It wasn’t the bookshelf that Carlos had been so sure of, but it was definitely the secret they’d been looking for.

“What’s in there? What is it?” Carlos asked, starting to climb up to see for himself.

Kendall gasped, awestricken. His voice was hardly a whisper. “Makeup.”

Carlos scrunched up his nose in disgust. “Isn’t that the stuff for girls?”

“No!” James insisted. “Some makeup isn’t for just girls. Like  _ monster _ makeup?”

As soon as he heard the word monster, Carlos was sold. Soon, Kendall was dealing out makeup to three sets of grabby hands until the cabinet was bone-dry. When he hopped off the counter, the blond examined all the materials on the floor. “Okay, so where do we start?” he asked cluelessly.

When he was met with three equally confused shrugs, there was nothing left to do but just go for it. The bathroom quickly turned into a free-for-all. Caps were flying aimlessly through the room as the boys broke into the products. They smeared lipsticks and mascaras all over their faces. Swirls and stars and lightning bolts were hastily drawn across cheeks and foreheads with eyeliner. Blush and powder choked them and paled their faces. Soon, there wasn’t an inch of visible skin that wasn’t colored somehow.

And that was how Mrs. Diamond found them. The boys were knee-deep in her makeup, laughing and smiling as their mess spread from their skin to the walls and floors. It didn’t stop until the ear-splitting scream of James’s mother clattered through the house, practically shaking the foundation. They knew they were doomed immediately.

Once Mrs. Diamond had discovered that her entire house was utterly trashed, she was livid. She grumbled to herself about how long it was going to take her to clean all this up and how they had all blatantly disregarded her instructions to  _ sit still _ and  _ play quietly. _ But she had bigger fish to fry. After all, sitting in her living room were four little boys, covered from head to toe in beauty product.

Their punishment was odd, to say the least. They expected their moms to be called. They didn’t expect the paparazzi. As soon as the doors opened, cameras flashed from all directions. The boys were ushered into poses and told to smile, but all they could do was grimace, shout, and squint. But after the barrage of photographs, it all seemed to be over.

Kendall, Carlos, and Logan were taken home and the makeup was thoroughly washed off. No one said anything about it for the rest of the day, or week, or month. Eventually, it seemed like everyone had forgotten about it. Like Minnesota had never even experienced four eight--almost nine--year-old boys covered in makeup.

But, after the boys had gone to bed that night, a few new photos were added to the family album. And the trap was set.


	19. Jenny Tinkler and the Lost Marbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Remember the second grade, when she broke my arm playing marbles?”

Fourth grade started a little rough.

That was the year the boys met Jenny Tinkler. She was a sugary sweet, lovable blonde girl with a cheerful disposition. But she was also a little accident prone. They liked her well enough, but being around her was like playing Russian Roulette. An accident was bound to happen, the only question was when.

“Hey guys!” Jenny greeted, bouncing happily on the balls of her feet. “I got a bunch of new marbles last night. You wanna play?”

The boys sat perched atop the playground equipment, eyes wide. There were so many things that could go wrong playing marbles with Jenny. More possible accidents than stars in the sky. But she was so sweet.

After a quick exchange of nervous glances, Kendall pushed his mouth to smile. “Sure, Jenny,” he said, trying to feign excitement.

They followed her to the blacktop, where they’d surely meet their doom. She was happily chattering the whole way there, oblivious to their fear. Soon, the game was set up and ready to play. And the boys were almost sick with anticipation.

Jenny’s first shot flew over their heads and landed in the grass. Her second ricocheted off the swing sets and almost took out a girl named Jessica’s eye. The third hit Carlos in the head, luckily bouncing off of his helmet and leaving him unscathed.

When her turn rolled around for the fourth time, Jenny assured the guys that she would definitely get it this time. No matter how certain they were that she wouldn’t, they continued to encourage her and play nice. After all, making her upset could only lead to her becoming even  _ more _ volatile and they didn’t want to see what  _ that _ would look like.

Carefully, Jenny lined up her shot. She was down at eye-level, one eye squinted shut in concentration, tongue stuck out for ultimate focus. The boys were impossibly tense. Their eyes were locked on that marble, trying to predict where in the world it might go.

She launched it forward. Of course, it didn’t stay on its planned course for long. Yet another marble went soaring through the air and bulleted straight into Brent Jennings’ head. He turned around, anger and irrationality burning in his eyes. The first person he locked eyes on was James and, regardless of who had actually hit him with the marble, Brent was immediately convinced that it had been James. There would be no talking him out of it, and the mortified fourth grader knew it.

“Hey dork, you think you’re funny?” Brent asked, lumbering over to the group. James shook his head. He looked like a deer in headlights, neck craned so he could see the bully looming over him. Brent snarled. “I’ll show you something funny.”

“Leave him alone!” Kendall demanded, puffing his chest out. He looked beside him, expecting the usual backup of Carlos and Logan, but they were both cowering behind Jenny. When Brent turned his attention to the blond, Kendall’s stomach dropped.

“What’d you say to me?” the goliath snarled.

Kendall shot James an apologetic glance before taking a step back. “Never mind!” he muttered sheepishly. In an instant, he joined Carlos and Logan, figuring that being close to Jenny would actually be  _ less _ dangerous than being close to Brent.

Brent’s attack happened in a single instant. The subtle choke of being pulled up by the shirt collar. The springy, unpleasant trip across the blacktop to the playground treeline. The brutish, ungraceful way Brent pulled James’s shirt over a tree branch, letting him dangle and thrash while the bully laughed. The potent sting of fresh scratches as the uneven bark dug into the brunet’s back, marking him with the embarrassing memory. Honestly, James hardly had the time to process all of this before his feet couldn’t touch the ground and Brent was stalking off to another part of the playground.

The world didn’t start spinning again until his friends were standing under him. “Thanks a lot,” he grumbled, eyebrows furrowed.

“This is all my fault,” said Jenny. No one wanted to say it, but they all kind of agreed with her. “Let me help you get down!”

It was already too late before anyone really thought about the offer. Jenny was pulling herself up into the tree, gnawing on her lip in pure determination. Kendall, Logan, and Carlos rushed to the base of the tree and were about to send Carlos up after her. The little blonde girl was already shimmying to the branch, trembling as she crawled. James was wriggling in pure panic, hoping his death would be quick and painless.

As soon as Jenny grabbed onto the hem of James’s shirt, the fabric tore under her fingers. James’s too-short life flashed before his eyes as he plummeted to the earth and landed hard on one side. With a grunt, he rolled over. It seemed distant, but he heard Jenny gasp and say, “Oh, sorry!”

His vision was blurry, whether from tears or the threat of unconsciousness he wasn’t sure. The guys and Jenny all stood over him, their eyes wide in shock. James’s heart was starting to slow a bit and that’s when the pain started rushing in. A quick look to the source of the pain revealed an arm bent in the wrong direction. James let out a sharp scream and then Logan was rushing for a teacher.

That was the first time James rode in an ambulance. It was the first time he’d broken a bone. It was the first time he’d  _ really _ gotten hurt on the playground. It was the first time James had an honest reason to  _ fear _ Jenny.

And fear her he did.


	20. Inked

According to Mrs. Talley, Carlos wasn’t allowed to drum on his desk anymore--and that included with his hands _and_ his pencils. He also wasn’t allowed to hum under his breath because, apparently, it wasn’t actually under his breath, but rather loud enough for the entire classroom to identify the song that was stuck in his head. He wasn’t allowed to doodle on his worksheets because he had the bad habit of covering up questions he didn’t know the answer to. He wasn’t allowed to buckle and unbuckle the strap on his helmet. He couldn’t brings snacks to munch on until he learned how to chew with his mouth closed and do it _quietly._

Actually, in Mrs. Talley’s fourth grade class, Carlos was hardly allowed to _breathe._

All the habits that Carlos had seemed to be nothing but trouble. Whether they were disruptive to other students--and 90 percent of them were--or just destructive to his learning, they were quickly banned as soon as they became visible.

The only problem was, the poor boy couldn’t focus unless he was moving. When he was supposedly sitting still, his mind was all over the place. “Under control” tended to mean that Carlos’s hand would shoot up in the middle of a lesson, guaranteeing some outlandish, nonsensical scenario that didn’t offer anything but a waste of time. His eyes would trail off to space, glazed over with a zombified expression. His jaw would slack. It was like Carlos wasn’t even there. Until his hand bolted back into the air with another, different scenario.

When a day came that Carlos was quiet and well-behaved, the entire class noticed. Mrs. Talley couldn’t see him staring off into space. In fact, it seemed like he was actually looking at the worksheet he’d been given. No ridiculous scenarios crossed his lips. His legs didn’t bounce, his fingers didn’t drum on anything. Carlos was a perfect little angel. It was unsettling, but Mrs. Talley let it be.

It was two days before the guys asked any questions. “Why are you wearing long sleeves? It’s the middle of Spring,” Kendall asked at recess.

To be honest, it wasn’t pleasant in the humid Minnesota air, but it was bearable. Still, Carlos couldn’t keep secrets from his best friends. He huddled the boys together and grinned. “Check it out,” he whispered, like he was revealing the most confidential thing.

When Carlos rolled up his sleeves, the boys were dumbstruck. Across the boy’s tanned and freckled arms was the most mesmerizing pattern they’d ever seen in their lives. Blue ink was scrawled across flesh, leaving behind zigzags, swirls, and waves. The color was a sleeve of its own, covering both arms up to the elbow.

“That’s so cool,” James said.

“But why’d you do it?” asked Kendall. He turned Carlos’s arm over in his hand. He hadn’t missed a spot.

Carlos shrugged, quickly covering up his arms again so as not to draw attention. “I dunno. I think better when I’m doing it.”

James’s eyes lit up. “Like a superpower.”

“That doesn’t really make sense,” Logan said, giving James a funny look. He was ignored.

“You think it could be?” Carlos asked. Suddenly he liked drawing on his arms even more.

Kendall gasped. “Maybe if we did it, too, we’d all think better.”

Hey, it was worth a shot.

The next day, all four of the guys were wearing long sleeves and doodling on their arms with pens. By recess, they were all inked up and might have looked like they were starting some kind of cult. They spent recess comparing patterns and colors and designs. New ideas were shared to better use the space on each boy’s arm and no one was ever the wiser.

Mrs. Talley was baffled by how quiet her four most troublesome students had been the last couple of days. They spent the entire day with their heads down and their mouths shut. Work was turned in fully completed--though strangely filled out in a different colored pen each day--and the boys were even tame at recess. Something was a little fishy.

Though their teacher was still clueless, word was quickly spreading through the classroom. Pens were exchanged like currency. Ink dotted the arms of all the girls and boys. Soon, it was even moving into different classrooms. The only problem was, these kids weren’t quite as careful as Kendall, James, Carlos, and Logan.

When the entire class had their eyes pointed down, things were out of hand. Then kids started drawing on their necks, legs, faces, and their friends. Kids went home with rainbow dripping off of their flesh and bruises where they’d pressed a pen just a little too hard. Parents called in to complain, teachers confiscated pens to stop the madness.

Eventually, it was traced back to Carlos--he and his friends being the only ones to remain undercover about their doodling ways. He was put in timeout for starting a school-wide epidemic and he got chewed out again at home after Mrs. Talley called his mom. The next day, it was back to short sleeves and drumming fingertips.

Mrs. Talley sighed as Carlos’s hands smacked out a rhythmless beat. _Give and take,_ she told herself. _Give and take._


	21. The Baker's Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The secret is I forgot about a Peewee Hockey bake sale, so I bought this, added this and everyone wanted my recipe so I made up the part about the secret family recipe because I’m a loser, okay?!”

The bake sale was torture. Pure, unadulterated torture. The boys were gathered in the bleachers of the gym, drooling over the cookies and cakes and brownies that lined the opposite wall. The boys had to be on their best behavior today. All of their moms were present, which made it a lot harder for them to slip into trouble unnoticed.

But everything smelled so good.

“We  _ have _ to get something to eat here,” Carlos said. “I’m not leaving without at least a cookie.”

Logan looked unsure. “They’re supposed to be for the team, Carlos. So we can get new stuff.”

The boys weren’t convinced. Kendall put a hand on the smaller boy’s shoulder. “Logan, do you see all of the snacks over there?” Logan nodded. “Nobody’s going to buy  _ all _ of that.”

“I bet if we each took one thing from each table, they’d never miss it,” James said. “Then everyone wins.”

Though he was still unsure, Logan was going mad sitting in that gym and smelling all the sugar around him. His friends were all staring at him, waiting expectantly. It wasn’t like he could talk them out of it. So he agreed. What was the worst that could happen? “Okay, what’s the plan?”

Kendall pointed to the far end of the gym, near the doors. “We start over there and crawl under the tables. That way, no one will see us. We have to eat fast, though, or we might get caught.”

“And we have to avoid our moms,” James said.

“Right. And Carlos?” The helmeted boy looked at the leader wide-eyed, obviously antsy. “We’re only taking  _ one _ thing from each table. If you take anymore they’ll notice.” Carlos nodded frantically.

Then the boys were off.

Surprisingly, the other kids were the hardest thing to avoid. They couldn’t have any extra tag-alongs or possible tattletales getting wind of their plan, so they had to move extremely carefully. The first table was quick and the boys quickly shoved the brownies in their mouths.

The third table was Mrs. Mitchell’s, where she was avidly talking with another mom about who-knows-what. The boys managed to slip by unnoticed, albeit empty-handed. By the fifth table, the boys were slowing down. Snacks were getting harder to eat in a single bite. One table’s cookies were practically the size of the their heads, leaving them stuck under that table for far too long.

Soon, they started losing track of whose table they were under. They’d only really memorized the first few tables and shoes weren’t as easy to recognize as they had assumed. Around the eighth table, the boys had to stop and get their bearings.

“I think I’m full,” Logan groaned, rubbing his stomach. “I can’t eat anymore.” James nodded in agreement.

“Wimps,” Carlos scoffed. He looked up at the table they were under. “Something up there smells  _ really _ good.” He was about to reach out into the open, when Kendall’s eyes grew wide.

“Wait! Look!” He pointed Carlos’s attention to the feet of the table runner--or rather, what was behind them. “That’s Katie’s stuffed bunny. You can’t take my mom’s cookies, she’ll kill us!”

“But they smell  _ awesome _ ,” Carlos whined. “I’ll only take one. We can split it. Logan and James aren’t gonna eat anymore.”

The two glared at each other, waiting for the other to crack. The cookies did smell amazing. Kendall had been dying to try one since his mom had pulled them out of the oven before they left. Usually, she would have let him try one, but she had forgotten about the bake sale beforehand and was rushing around all morning trying to get the treats done in time. He didn’t even have time to ask for a taste before he and Katie were pulled out of the house.

“ _ One,” _ Kendall insisted, causing Carlos to light up. “And be careful!”

With an enthusiastic nod, Carlos began his mission. He slithered out from under the table, keeping close to one of the table legs for support, and scoped out the area. Mrs. Knight was tending to Katie, who’d started babbling about something. It was the perfect setup.

Carlos had the cookie in his hand in an instant. He quickly retreated back under the table, the biggest grin coating his face. He broke the treat in two and smugly handed a half to Kendall. When the cookies were shoved into their mouths, their eyes lit up. It was probably the best thing they’d ever tasted.

“She probably wouldn’t miss one more,” Carlos said, eyes pleading.

“ _ No,” _ Kendall insisted. “We can’t risk it again.”

“But that was the best thing I’ve ever had! Come on, wasn’t it awesome?”

Kendall rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but my mom is gonna see you if you try again!”

“No she won’t, I was super quick last time. And this time will be exactly the same.”

“If you guys don’t stop fighting, she’s gonna  _ hear _ us and it won’t matter how quickly you can grab a cookie!” Logan snapped, his voice a hiss. Kendall and Carlos threw hands over their mouths in fear, hoping they hadn’t already given away their position.

“Just one more,” Carlos finally whispered. He was desperate.

“Okay, okay, one more.” Kendall couldn’t help it. He was dying to have another one of those cookies, too. It was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

Carlos was off before Kendall could even finish his sentence. In retrospect, Kendall probably should have grabbed it for him, seeing as Carlos was getting a little too worked up, but he wasn’t thinking about that. All he could think about were those cookies.

Again, Carlos peeked over the top of the table, trying to see if the coast was clear. Mrs. Knight was still turned away, Katie in her arms as she cooed and talked to the toddler. It was almost too easy.

“Carlos!” Katie chirped happily, making the mentioned thief's face pale. Kendall must have heard his baby sister because Carlos could feel the blond pulling on his legs, trying to get him to hide back under the table. It was too late, Mrs. Knight turned and saw everything. Carlos’s hand was already halfway to the container of cookies.

“What are you doing?!” Mrs. Knight cried. She paused, putting a hand on her hip. “Boys, get out from under the table.”

Ashamed, the boys followed orders. Soon, all four were lined up in front of the table, heads hung and eyes on their feet.

“Were you stealing cookies?” she asked. It was obvious she already knew the answer, but she was waiting for the confession. Maybe the reasoning behind it.

“We were hungry,” Carlos started.

“And everything smells so good,” said Logan.

James added, “We thought it wouldn’t matter because there’s so much.”

“But we didn’t mean to do anything bad,” Kendall finished, sure to add in their innocent intentions.

Mrs. Knight sighed, anger dulling. “Well, it’s still  _ stealing. _ I want you boys to apologize to everyone you took from.”

The boys nodded and began to march off. Carlos quickly whirled back around, asking, “Can we have  _ one more _ \--”

“GO,” Mrs. Knight demanded, not even entertaining the thought of giving the boys rewards.

The apologies were slow and painful and there were at least seven parents they had to answer to. Some got mad, others just glad they owned up to it. A few were so livid that they demanded payment for the missing treats, and their moms weren’t very happy to hear about that.

And even after all of that, the boys were still pretty pleased with their full bellies.


	22. A Cozy Home

The boys had taken full control of the Garcia living room, leaving Carlos’s siblings to their own devices. Once all the cartoons they enjoyed had gone off and they’d been told to play _ quietly _ for the fifth time that afternoon, the boys were at a loss. What could they possibly do quietly?

“If I had my own house, we could be as loud as we want,” Carlos said.

“You can’t move out,” Logan said, earning a glare from Carlos. “You’re not old enough.”

“I’m  _ nine _ . That’s old enough to do lots of things.”

“Not move out.”

Already tired of the argument, Kendall interjected. “We don’t need to move out, we just need to think of something to do. What do we have?”

The boys looked around the room. “We’ve got pillows,” James said, pulling the cushion out from under him.

“And there’s some blankets over here,” Logan added. He got up and pulled the blankets off of the chair next to them.

Carlos leaned forward. “These are just some of Annie’s books,” Carlos said, holding up the novels like they were moldy.

Kendall grinned. “I’ve got an idea!” The boys huddled around him, awaiting the amazing plan. “We can make our own fort inside the house.”

“Yeah!” Carlos chirped. “We’re moving out!”

Kendall stood up on the couch and scoped out the living room, turning as he tried to imagine where everything would go. “Logan, start spreading the blankets out over the back of the couch. James and I will go get chairs from the kitchen to hold up the other side. Carlos, you cover the floor with pillows and cushions. We want it to be super soft.”

The other three nodded and set to work, grabbing their materials and meticulously building. Kendall and James snuck off to the kitchen, careful to avoid Mrs. Garcia so she wouldn’t ask any questions. They brought the chairs back one by one, trying to keep them from dragging across the floor and being too loud. Soon, they’d fenced in the area of their fort.

“Logan, stop dropping blankets!” Carlos called from inside the fort. The corners kept falling out of place, sending the entire roof of their building tumbling down.

“I can’t help it! They won’t stay!” the small boy called back.

Thinking quickly, Kendall grabbed the novels from the coffee table and handed some to Logan. “Here, hold them down with these.” The two boys made quick work of securing the fort, and soon the boys were all crawling into their finished masterpiece.

“You like it?” Carlos asked, gesturing around to the completely pillow-covered floor.

“Like it? We can’t  _ see _ it!” James complained. “It’s too dark in here!”

After a moment of thought, Carlos lit up. “I’ve got a flashlight!” He quickly exited the fort and ran to his room.

“It needs something else,” Kendall thought out loud, tapping a finger to his chin.

This time, James lit up. “Comic books!” he cried, running after Carlos to gather the entertainment.

“What about snacks?” Logan suggested.

Kendall narrowed his eyes. “We do need snacks. But we have to get them carefully.”

Soon, the fort was completely evacuated, the boys all off in separate directions to fully furnish their fort. Carlos was digging through his closet, looking for his flashlight. James was rifling through the extensive comic collection, trying to find all the best ones. Logan was atop the counter, throwing candy bars and juice boxes down to Kendall’s outstretched arms.

When the boys regrouped, they threw all of their findings into the fort and crawled in. Once Carlos switched on the flashlight, everything was perfect. They curled up with their snacks and comic books, laughing and chatting as they flipped through issue after issue.

And that was how Mrs. Garcia found them. All the blankets and pillows in the living room were in use and even the couch cushions were inside the fort. But the blanket really muffled their excited chatter and she couldn't even be mad. The boys had actually found something relatively quiet to do.


	23. Ribbon Dancer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Uh, he’s doing rhythmic gymnastics.”

Days without the guys were torture. Kendall, James, Carlos, and Logan spent so much time together that being apart was like taking all of the fun out of the day. Yet, they couldn’t spend every moment together. Today, James was off with his mom getting his haircut--an all-day experience--Kendall was spending the day with Mrs. Knight and Katie as some sort of family bonding exercise, and Logan was at the library.

Granted, Logan had invited Carlos to join him at the library, but Carlos had adamantly refused. Reading wasn’t exactly something he considered  _ fun _ after all. Everything Carlos could think of that  _ was _ fun needed another person. Hockey, tag, even watching cartoons felt lonely.

“Hey Carlitos, what’s up?” his sister Mia asked as she passed through the living room.

“I’m bored,” he whined, throwing his hands over his head dramatically. He looked up at Mia with desperation in his eyes. “Will you play with me?”

“Sorry, bud, I’m just about to leave to practice my routine.” Mia had been dancing since she was Carlos’s age at least, and it was her greatest passion. It seemed like she was always out practicing or performing at recitals. It always mesmerized Carlos whenever he watched her.

He shot up from the couch. “Can I come? I’ll help you!”

She laughed and reached down to ruffle his hair. “I don’t think so. It’s really intense stuff.”

“ _ Please,” _ he begged. “I’ll be extra good, I promise. And we’ll get to hang out together!”

Mia pursed her lips. With a heavy sigh she turned and motioned for him to follow. “Alright, come on, I guess you can’t hurt anything.”

Mrs. Garcia dropped the two at the dance studio, promising to be back after she finished all of her errands for the day. It was a little odd having Carlos come along, especially since no one had ever really thought of Carlos as someone who’d enjoy dance, much less want to participate in it. Regardless, Carlos was the most excited to be there.

Carlos stared into the mirror-covered wall in awe. He’d never actually seen Mia practice, he’d only seen her perform on stage. There definitely weren’t walls of mirrors on stage. “Why are there mirrors everywhere?” he asked, palms already smudging the glass.

“So you can see what you’re doing, duh,” Mia said. She pulled him away from the mirror. “Come here and stretch with me.”

“Aw, why?” he asked, scrunching up his nose.

She rolled her eyes. It hadn’t crossed her mind that Carlos was going to be inquisitive and that was certainly going to get old fast. “You have to be loose when you dance or you’ll get cramps. Don’t you stretch before you play hockey?” She sat down on the ground and spread her legs, reaching both arms out to one side, and then repeating with the other.

Carlos copied her pose, but he wasn’t nearly as skilled with his stretches. “Yeah kinda, but I don’t like them.” He groaned as he reached for his other leg. “They hurt.”

Mia laughed. The two stood up and she helped him stay balanced while he pulled one leg up behind his back. “It hurts less than pulling a muscle.”

Once the two had done as much stretching as Carlos could handle, Mia brought him back to the mirrors that he was so fascinated with. He wanted to press his face against them, but every time he tried to get close, Mia pulled him back.

While she went through her warm-up routine, Carlos explored the studio. He wasn’t interested in doing much more preparation, especially after stretching. The studio was pretty bare, save for a few stray chairs and a closet in the corner. With his sister distracted, Carlos took the opportunity to slip into the equipment closet and explore further.

Dance gear hung from rails and sat atop shelves. Ballet slippers in every color, tutus to match, and small rings holding hundreds of hair ties. Then Carlos’s eye caught on the ribbons. There were dozens of them in all colors of the rainbow.

He quickly snatched one from the pile and ran back into the main studio. “Mia! Mia, look what I found!” he called, interrupting the routine that she had been going through. She stopped short, turning to face him.

“You found a ribbon? Cool, I guess.” His excitement was extremely over the top considering what exactly he’d found, but she wasn’t about to dismiss it completely.

“Yeah, how do you use it?” He was trying to flick it like a whip, but the results weren’t satisfactory.

Mia walked over to him, taking his hand to guide it. “You don’t snap it. Look, you twirl it.” His eyes lit up as the red strip made coils in the air. When Mia stopped spinning his hand, the ribbon fluttered gracefully to the ground in front of him.

“Wow! I wanna try!” With a nod, Mia stood back and waited for it to launch out of his hand and fly across the room. Luckily, Carlos was gentle with the ribbon. He wiggled his wrist and waved his arm, trying to get the ribbon to do what he wanted. Soon, he was making it swirl and wave around. “This is so cool!” he cheered.

His sister laughed at his enthusiasm. She quickly retrieved a ribbon of her own and ushered him back in front of the mirror. Then, she began coaching him through a simple routine with the ribbon. Though Carlos was a little tripped up at certain parts, it wasn’t long before he was intently focused and getting the routine almost perfect.

By the time Mrs. Garcia returned from her errands, Carlos was anxious to show off the dance Mia had taught him. His mom was extremely happy to see the result and cheerfully clapped as her son nailed his finishing move.

As Mia was putting the ribbons back in the supply closet, she said, “You’re a real natural, Carlos. You should come with me again sometime.”

Carlos gave an enthusiastic nod. Of course he’d come back to this.


	24. Snow Angels

Snow hid all the colors of the street, leaving nothing but whites and grays. The boys looked longingly out the window, waiting for permission to go outside. They were already fully decked out in warm clothes. They could hardly move in the puffy snow pants and clunky boots, but it was what they had to do to get outside. Besides, they’d be shedding almost all of it as soon as they made it out the front door.

As soon as they heard Mrs. Knight coming down the stairs, they turned and stared expectantly. She had told them they could go out as soon as she put Katie down for her nap.

“Okay, go for it. Have fun,” she told them, shooing them with her hands. She grabbed her coffee from the table in the living room and watched as the boys trampled over each other to get out the door. “Be careful!” she called after them, but it was useless.

When the door was slammed shut, the first order of business was stripping themselves of the useless clothes. First went the coats, then the top layer of sweaters. Then snow pants, hats, and gloves. Soon, a pile as big as them was made on the front step, and the boys left it behind in favor of the snow.

“Let’s build a snowman!” suggested James.

“I wanna go sledding!” Carlos said, throwing his hands up in excitement.

“What about a snowball fight?” Logan asked.

Kendall tapped his chin in thought. There was so much to do and so little time. “Well there’s enough snow to do all of that,” he said, looking around. The thick blanket covered their knees and started soaking through their pants, leaving them chilled. Absentmindedly, Kendall muttered, “I bet if we put all of it together, it’d reach up to the top floor of the house.”

The other boys considered this. “If we get enough of it in a pile, we could jump in it like leaves!” Carlos suggested. “We could climb up to your window and land in it like a pillow.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “I don’t think that’s how--”

“Great idea, Carlos!” Kendall cried. “Guys, help me get all the snow together!”

It was slow going and, eventually, the boys had to put their gloves back on because the snow was so cold in their hands. Occasionally snowball fights would break out, only to result in two of the four boys tumbling around on the ground in a  _ real _ fight. But soon enough, the snow was piled as high as they could get it.

Their pile covered most of the kitchen window, but wasn’t nearly high enough to reach up to Kendall’s room above. That wasn’t about to stop their plan from working, though.

“I really don’t think this is safe,” Logan muttered.

“I bet we could sled down it,” Carlos said. Yet again, Logan was overruled.

After retrieving the sled from the garage, the guys had a pretty hard time getting up to the second floor window. They couldn’t drag it through the house, seeing as Mrs. Knight would catch them and obviously not approve of their plan. The pile of snow wasn’t nearly big enough for them to climb it and simply push the sled into the window. Essentially, the only way to get it to the second floor was by carrying it up the tree in the front yard and pushing it through that way, which was an adventure in itself.

Once the sled got caught on one of the branches and couldn’t push forward anymore, the boys called it quits on that idea. They pushed the sled out of the tree, and settled on the leaf idea. It would be the coolest snow angels they’d ever made, surely.

They used the tree to gather onto the portico over the front door and stood together in preparation for the jump. One last time, Logan tried to reason with them. “I really think we shouldn’t--”

“Come on, Logan, it’ll be  _ fine _ ,” James assured him with a wave of his hand. “It’ll be like jumping on a bunch of pillows.”

Logan sighed. It was useless.

“Alright boys,” Kendall said as they lined up on the edge of the roof. “Ready?”

They crouched. James continued, “Set…”

One last, calming breath. “GO!” shouted Carlos.

The boys stumbled off the roof and fell into the pile of snow that they’d made. Unfortunately, Logan was right. It wasn’t like falling into a pile of pillows or leaves or anything soft at all. It was more like falling straight through a pile of snow and belly-flopping onto the ground.

Apparently, Mrs. Knight had heard their shouts and had rushed out to make sure they were okay, because she was standing next to their discarded clothes with hands on hips. Groaning, the boys slowly sat up and held their aching torsos and heads. Though slightly miffed, Mrs. Knight gathered them up and took them inside to warm them up and ease their aches and pains.

The boys sat down at the kitchen table, sipping hot cocoa and wincing at the slightest movements. “Okay,” said Kendall, “next time, we’ll just build a snowman.”


	25. Fallen Soldier

James never showed up to the game of street hockey that the guys had planned to have the day before. It was pretty much impossible to play a fair game with only three players and no one wanted to sit out, so the whole event was cancelled. All that was left was to find out why James had ditched them.

“Probably a bad hair day,” teased Carlos as the three boys hopped on their bikes and pedaled off to James’s place.

“Maybe his mom is holding him hostage,” Logan considered. It would be like Mrs. Diamond to keep her son from playing something she considered dangerous. And no one said no to Brooke Diamond.

“Relax, guys,” Kendall said with a roll of his eyes. “He probably just forgot and overslept.”

Kendall was the closest. When the boys showed up at James’s house, they found him in bed, sick. His curtains were drawn and the light was off, leaving the room looking like midnight rather than midday. When Kendall switched the light on, James groaned.

“Wow, you look awful,” Carlos said.

“Thanks,” James snapped. His words were quickly followed by a sharp sneeze, making the boys recoil. “I feel awful.”

“Where’s your mom? Is she taking care of you?” Logan asked.

James shook his head. “No, she’s working. So’s dad.” He buried his face into his pillow and groaned. “Turn the light back off, my head hurts.”

Logan obliged and the boys left the room, only momentarily.

“We can’t just leave him like this,” Kendall said, determined. Logan and Carlos nodded. “We have to take care of him so he’ll get better faster.”

When they reentered James’s room, the boy had already fallen into a restless sleep. He snored lightly, which occasionally resulted in a coughing fit.

Kendall kept his voice low, looking between his two healthy friends in the dim light. “Carlos, he needs orange juice, stat,” he demanded, using doctor lingo he’d picked up from TV. Carlos slapped his helmet on his head and fled from the room on a mission. “Logan, what do you know about making soup?”

“I can follow directions,” the dark-haired boy said with a shrug.

Kendall nodded. “Good enough. I’ll help. Let’s go.”

Soon, the boys had turned the kitchen into home base. They still weren’t tall enough to reach all the things they needed, but with a little ambition and a lot of climbing, they were off to work. Carlos was quick with the orange juice, hardly spilling any of it, and shuffled back to James’s room to place it quietly on his bedside table.

Kendall and Logan had an adventure with the soup. At first it seemed like they would only be able to warm it on the stove--something even  _ they _ weren’t bold enough to try without an adult in the house--but Logan found the microwave directions after a short panic. They popped the lid off and splattered it into the bowl. Once the soup was warm, the only challenge left was the trip to the bedroom and that would be a breeze.

When James woke up again, there was a full meal waiting for him and three eager nurses awaiting his opinion. He sat up slowly and brought the soup to his chest, reveling in the warmth. “I thought you guys would’ve left.”

“We never leave a man behind,” Kendall said proudly.

James smiled at the sentiment and then took a spoonful of soup. It made him feel a lot better, warming his freezing insides. Of course, Logan promptly ruined it by shoving a thermometer into his mouth. “What’re you doing?” James asked around the object.

“Sit still, we have to make sure you’re not running a fever.” James did as he was told and, just as soon as it had been placed in his mouth, Logan ripped it back out. “A hundred degrees,” Logan said solemnly.

Carlos and Kendall stared at the thermometer curiously. “Is that bad?” Carlos finally asked.

“Normal is like 98,” Logan told him. Gentle  _ ohhhs _ came from Carlos and Kendall and James yelped.

“That’s not good! I don’t wanna be sick!” James said, pouting.

“Then get more sleep,” Logan demanded. “And eat more soup.”

“Which one? I can’t do both, Logan!” James was only getting more frantic until Logan rolled his eyes.

“Not in that order, duh. Eat the soup and  _ then _ sleep. It’s like you’ve never been sick before.”

James nodded, and did as he was told. Once he was asleep again, the boys waited patiently for him to wake up and bombarded him with questions when he did. How was he feeling? Did he need anything? More soup? More orange juice? Did they need to take his temperature again?

It was all very stressful for James, but the guys did mean well at least. When Mrs. Diamond returned from work that afternoon, she found all four boys in James’s room. She quickly ushered them out, hoping it wasn’t too late for them to get sick as well, and ignored their protests as she pushed them out the door. Dejected, the boys mounted their bikes and headed home.

And neither Carlos nor Kendall heard Logan cough.


	26. It's A Bird, It's A Plane

“Carlos, it’s not Halloween anymore, you have to take off the costume!” shouted Zach. He was chasing the fourth grader around the house, getting more and more frustrated with each lap.

Ever since Halloween, Carlos had periodically been wearing his superhero costume around the house and had tried many times, though unsuccessfully, to wear it out. Mrs. Garcia was going insane with his constant make-believe, and had enlisted the entire family in getting the costume off of Carlos.

“You’ll never take me alive!” he shouted, ricocheting around the couch yet again. Carlos was full of boundless energy and Zach was tiring out. He turned back to stick his tongue out, when a pair of slender arms wrapped around his torso.

“Got’cha, ya little twerp,” Mia teased. She had always been the easiest to get along with and usually saw the fun in Carlos’s antics. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to force him out of his super outfit. “Mom said you gotta take off the cape,” she told him as he struggled.

“No! You can’t reveal my secret identity. It’s a  _ secret! _ ” With a grunt and a sharp twist, Carlos slid out of Mia’s arms. He dashed under a startled Lukas, who had only just made it into the room, and they heard a door down the hall slam shut.

Carlos had locked himself in the bathroom. With a pout on his face, he sat stubbornly on top of the toilet, arms crossed and resolve strong. He’d stay in there as long as it took. Or until he got really hungry.

Before he had a chance to test himself, though, a gentle hand knocked on the door. “Carlos, you gotta come out of there.” It was Annie.

“Yeah, come out before we knock the door down!” That was Lukas.

“You will not be knocking any doors down in my house!” And that was his mother. “Carlos Garcia, you get out of there this instant and take off that ridiculous costume!”

“I don’t wanna!” he called out. “I like my cape and stuff.” He looked down to examine the costume, still impressed with his mother’s artistry. She’d made it completely from scratch, only going off of the description Carlos had imagined. The suit was mostly red, accompanied by a yellow cape and boots. There was a picture of a comet attached to the front and fake abs just underneath. It was pretty much every fourth grader’s dream costume.

Mrs. Garcia let out an audible sigh--even though the door. “You can’t wear it all year. We’ll hang it up and you can wear it again next year if you want to.”

“But Mama--”

“I’m going to count to three, and if you’re not out here by the time I get there, you’re going to be in a load of trouble.”

The little boy’s eyes widened. His mom only counted when she was  _ really _ getting tired of him. If she made it to three, there was a wide range of horrible things that could possibly happen to him. Things far worse than timeouts and not being allowed to have desserts.

“One…”

It was an internal struggle. Stand up for himself and his right to wear what he pleased, or succumb to his mother’s dictatorship and leave the bathroom defeated? There wasn’t much time. He had to make a decision.

“Two…”

A cold sweat began to form on Carlos’s brow. Everyone was waiting for him on the other side. He took another look down at his outfit. It was so perfect. He didn’t know if he could bear taking it off. He took a deep, shaky breath, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.

“Th--”

Carlos slammed into Mrs. Garcia and hugged her tight, tears spilling out of his eyes. “I just wanna be a superhero!” he wailed desperately. He wasn’t quite sure if he’d gotten out soon enough. Maybe she’d go easy on him if he cried harder.

“Oh honey,” she cooed. His siblings were quickly fleeing the scene, seeing their window for escape. “You can be a superhero in normal clothes. You don’t have to wear this silly outfit.”

He sniffled. “But I like my costume.” She patted him on the head to comfort him, but she wasn’t going to stop until he was out of the Halloween garb. “Mama, can I be a superhero when I grow up?”

“You can be anything you wanna be, baby.” Sure she said it, but there’s no way he’d take her seriously. He probably wouldn’t even remember she’d said it by tomorrow. Besides, it seemed to cheer him up immensely. “Come on, let’s get you changed.”

He obliged and finally Mrs. Garcia got what she wanted. Carlos hung up his costume and exchanged it for normal, everyday clothes. While he was still a little down for the rest of the day, it was worth it to get him back under control. Super Carlos was no longer an issue.

For now.


	27. Games, Part Deux

After losing four consecutive games of Hide and Seek, Logan agreed to be the seeker for a while. They were making use of the entire Garcia house with their game, so there were plenty of places for the boys to hide. It had already been ten minutes and Logan had successfully exhausted all of the places he usually hid in. The guys were still nowhere to be found.

The problem was, Logan was extremely predictable. There were a few standard places that he could always be found in and he didn’t understand why the guys always found him first. Once these locations were out of the running, Logan was lost on where exactly to check. To make this work, he’d have to set aside his logical and meticulous nature and think like the others.

Suddenly, everywhere was fair game. The small boy shimmied under couches and climbed on top of shelves. He even checked in flower vases and full boxes--just in case. That’s when he started to hear shuffling and giggling.

Carlos was obviously somewhere nearby. The poor kid couldn’t sit still for more than two minutes. He must have been getting restless and Logan could use that to his advantage. Thinking quickly, Logan began stomping really dramatically as he searched. It was clear that Carlos could hear him now, because the shuffling would stop at certain moments and pick back up when Logan got too far away.

Once Logan had all but pinpointed the spot, he moved like a cat stalking its prey. One more careful lap around the sofa confirmed the raven-haired boy’s suspicions. Confident, Logan ripped the cushions off of the sofa and threw them to the ground behind him. He was surprised to find the inside of the sofa all torn up and mostly hollow on the inside. But he wasn’t surprised to find Carlos.

“Aw man, how’d you find me?” the helmeted boy complained. He clambered out of the sofa and pouted. “I didn’t think you’d be any good at seeking.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, a smug grin on his face. “I can hear you from a mile away, genius.”

Carlos let out a sharp huff, but didn’t protest any further. He followed Logan around as he tried to find James and Kendall, which wouldn’t be easy. James and Kendall were easily neck and neck for Best Hiders of the Century (the official title for their running tally of unfound players) and they really lived up to the name.

James was quiet and, despite being tall, folded nicely into small, unsuspecting places. He could fit in almost any space he wanted to and he attributed it all to determination. James was also fairly patient. He could wait for the glorious sounds of surrender all day, even when all three guys were searching for him. It was infuriating.

And then there was Kendall. He wasn’t nearly as limber as James was. In fact, the blond had a tendency to getting cramped in his hiding spaces quickly. And Kendall was  _ not _ patient. Once he got uncomfortable, he needed to move and wriggle around. But Kendall  _ was _ shifty and sneaky. He never stayed in one place for long, but he always had a plan of action out in the open. A lot of times, the guys would discover Kendall’s hiding place right after he moved on to the next, leaving them baffled as to where he could have ended up.

Kendall also held the record for most base runs. The base, Carlos’s bedroom, was entirely off limits for hiding purposes, but if they were able to touch the doorknob before getting spotted, they were completely safe. The wily blond was notorious for just appearing at the base. If it wasn’t guarded, he’d slip right past and the next time the seeker came around the corner, he’d be there, a pleasant and mocking smile on his face.

“Okay, let’s look at this rationally,” Logan said as he trailed back through the house, new targets in his sights. Carlos rolled his eyes. Rationality in Hide and Seek. It just seemed wrong. “We’ll check all of their usual hiding spots. They’ll probably be in one of those.”

“What about base?” asked Carlos. The two were already headed up the stairs anyway.

“There’s no way Kendall’s already--” But Logan spoke too soon. As soon as the boys reached the top of the stairs, they saw him, sitting there.

Kendall grinned as they walked up, hand hanging loosely from the doorknob. He’d learned from past mistakes--the door _ knob _ was the only thing that would keep him safe, not just the door itself. “Hey, what took you guys so long?” he asked innocently, as if he’d been waiting so they could all go out and play street hockey.

Logan and Carlos’s distaste only made Kendall enjoy his victory more. “Where  _ were _ you?” asked the fourth grade genius. He had to know.

“Well first I was under the desk in Mia’s room. Then Annie’s bookshelf. I hid behind the washing machine for a little while. And then behind the door of the hall closet.” He ticked off his hiding spots on his fingers, making sure he got all of them. “Then I came here.”

“You were in  _ all _ those places and we never saw you once?” Carlos asked. Granted, he’d been in the sofa for most of that time, but surely Logan would have seen him. Those hiding spots weren’t even remotely close together.

Before Kendall could gloat, Logan interjected. “It doesn’t matter. Do you know where James might be?”

Kendall shrugged. “Did you check the kitchen?”

The three boys traipsed off to search through the pantries and cupboards. All the while, they yelled out to James, trying to get him to give up. “It’s over, James! Kendall got to base! Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

Of course, it was all hopeless. James didn’t quit until he was found, no matter how long it took. The boys rifled through Mrs. Garcia’s massive kitchen, snatching a few snacks along the way. Drawers and doors were angrily slammed shut with no sign of James. It was getting ridiculous.

“It’s been  _ forever, _ ” moaned Carlos as he munched on a banana. “James! We give up!”

“He’s gotta be here somewhere,” Logan said, the only one still searching.

Kendall gave a dismissive wave of his hand. He walked over to the fridge, turning back to Logan before he opened it. “We’ll find him, don’t worry,” he assured. He turned back, pulling open the fridge to find himself some pudding.

Then James tumbled out, landing on top of Kendall with a yelp.

“See? Told you,” Kendall joked as he pushed James off of him. The brunet was shivering wildly, having spent all of the game tucked into the fridge. It really was the perfect hiding spot.

“T-T-T-To-ok you gu-gu-guys long en-n-nough,” James taunted. The fridge had left him hopelessly cold and he rubbed his hands along his arms, trying to generate some heat.

“James, you could’ve frozen to death!” Logan complained. He rushed to the living room and got the boy a blanket. “Why’d you hide in the fridge, anyway?”

He pulled the blanket tightly around himself and rolled his eyes. “S-S-So you w-wouldn’t f-f-f-find me-e, d-d-d-uh.”


	28. Sparks Don't Fly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He lost a pet when he was young and he is still sad.”  
> “Sparky…”

The day Sparky passed was filled with nothing but sadness. The entire Garcia family--and Kendall, James, and Logan, for that matter--had loved their dog dearly. He had left them all too soon and there were plenty of tears because of it.

Carlos took it especially hard. After all, he had spent the most time with Sparky. The pup was one of his best friends and had practically been inducted as the fifth member of their group. Sparky had always been there to greet him when he came home from school. He always knew when Carlos was upset, even when no one else did, and he was pure comfort. Having Sparky leave his life was impossibly hard for him.

In honor of their beloved friend, the guys held a funeral in the backyard. The dog had already been buried, since none of them could bear to look at the poor thing as Mr. Garcia placed it under the ground. But they made sure to mark his grave with rocks and flowers, and they were all clad in black.

“We’re here today to mourn the death of a great dog,” Logan began. The boys all had their heads bowed as he spoke, eyes closed and fighting back tears. “Sparky was a friend to us all and almost like a brother, too. He was there to make us feel better when we fell off our bikes and he was always happy to roll around in the dirt with us.

“Now that he’s gone, I hope he’s happy wherever he is. And even though Sparky isn’t around anymore to run around and play with, we will always remember him.”

After Logan’s speech, Kendall stepped up to the head of the grave. The blond wiped away a few stray tears, trying to stay strong. “Sparky was definitely the coolest dog ever. He always did whatever you asked him to do and he never bit anyone. And Sparky was also the best racer ever. He was super fast and totally could have beaten me in a race. I know that Sparky could have run faster than a racecar if he had wanted to.”

James followed Kendall’s lead, taking the blond’s place at the grave. “We’ll really miss him. We’ll miss all of the times he knocked us over when he said hello. We’ll miss feeding him under the table when no one wasn’t watching. And how he stuck his head out the car window all the time. And how he would chase birds in the park. Sparky was a really awesome dog.”

Finally, Carlos stepped up to the grave, tears still streaming down his face. He could hardly get the words out, he was crying so hard. “Sparky was my best friend,” Carlos choked out. “He was always around and always wanted to play with me. Even when everyone else was busy, Sparky would still pay attention to me. And now he’s--” Carlos just couldn’t bear to say it. “I’m really gonna miss him…”

The boys finished up the funeral with an offkey and mostly made up rendition of “Amazing Grace,” since Logan said that was what people sang at funerals. When they finished, Mrs. Garcia called them back in, hoping to cheer them up with some snacks. Carlos stayed behind for a few more moments, still not prepared to leave.

Carlos wiped a hand across his face, hoping to get rid of some of the sticky tears. He picked up one of the flowers he and the boys had thrown onto the grave and gingerly planted it in the mound of dirt on top of his dog. It stood upright, drawing attention to the edge of the yard. “I’m gonna miss you, Sparky,” he mumbled, patting the dirt just as he would have patted his beloved dog’s head. “I hope you’re happy now.”


	29. Lucky Comb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What other odd things do you carry in your pockets?”  
> “My lucky comb.”

With school right around the corner, it was imperative that James get new clothes. He couldn’t be seen in the same old things from last year. It would have utterly devastated his image. So, with his mom out pitching products, it was his dad’s job to help James get his brand new wardrobe. Image was one thing his parents actually agreed on and their senses of style were compatible enough that neither minded when the other took James out.

It took the two of them almost all day before they were satisfied. Mr. Diamond’s car was loaded up with bags and boxes galore. Everything from shoes to jackets would be lining James’s closet--all new and ready for the school year.

When they got in the car to head home, Mr. Diamond turned to his son. “James, I have something really important I want to give you.”

The brunet’s eyes lit up. He could only imagine what it was. His dad wasn’t usually one for sentimentality and definitely didn’t usually do anything heartfelt. This was something big and James knew it. “What is it?” he asked impatiently.

Mr. Diamond held the object out to James, a fatherly smile on his face. With eyes glimmering like Christmas lights, James gingerly took the comb in his hand. “Remember son, behind every great man, is a greater comb. That comb is going to carry you far.” His father paused for a moment. “And it’ll be useful in a pinch.”

The biggest grin was plastered on James’s face, which seemed to please his dad. He gripped the comb tightly for the entire ride home. His father had entrusted him with this comb, and he was going to protect it with his life.

* * *

 

When James went to hang out with the guys the next day, he tucked his new comb safely in his pocket. His dad had told him that bad hair could strike at any moment and it was important to be prepared. The boy knew all too well how dangerous hockey helmets were on his hair. His comb would certainly come in handy today.

In fact, it came in handy  _ a lot. _ It seemed like every time the game reached a slight pause, James would pull out his comb and run it through his hair. The motion began to frustrate the guys, seeing as it took so long for James to get back in the game.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Carlos asked as he skated past James. The brunet was combing his hair for the fiftieth time that day. Someone had to say something.

“Because I like my hair to look  _ good _ ,” James answered. “And helmet hair doesn’t look good.”

Carlos scrunched up his face. Of course  _ he _ wouldn’t understand. Carlos hardly ever took his helmet off. He wouldn’t ever see his hair anyway. “Do you have to do it after  _ every _ goal, though? We’re tired of waiting!”

“Come on, James!” Kendall shouted from farther down the ice. “Get in the game!” Carlos shot James a smug look, as if Kendall had just proved his point.

“I’m coming!” he shouted back, frustrated. The guys just didn’t understand. He ran the comb through his hair a couple more times, just for good measure.

“It’s not like that comb is gonna make you any better,” Carlos teased. “You’re still gonna lose to me and Logan.” When James shot him a scowl, Carlos responded by sticking his tongue out and racing back to his position.

James huffed. “I’ll show him,” he muttered. He quickly strapped his helmet back onto his head and joined Kendall. The game went back into play in an instant.

The boys were gliding up and down the rink, practically on top of each other the whole way. James was playing extra aggressively, if only to prove Carlos wrong. He snapped his stick, sending the puck flying right by Carlos and straight into the goal. It was a miracle.

“Nice one!” Kendall congratulated, a grin spreading across his face.

And it only got better. James kept playing perfectly. It was like he’d been possessed by Wayne Gretzky. No one stood a chance against him. By the time the boys finished their game, James and Kendall had decimated Logan and Carlos--with James responsible for most of the goals. It was the strangest thing. James had never been so good at hockey.

“What happened?” Carlos asked, exasperated. “You’ve never been that good!” Logan hit him on the shoulder, always conscious of manners.

To be honest, James didn’t really have an answer. There was no real explanation for his sudden string of luck except... _ luck. _ He looked down at the comb in his hand and, more confidently than ever, ran it through his hair. “It’s the comb,” he said. “It’s lucky.”


	30. The Bone Breaker

It was the last week of summer. Carlos was perched atop his bike, helmet strapped on tight and determination burning in his eyes. He still hadn’t explained how he’d gotten the bottle rockets that were strapped to his wheels. Kendall, Logan, and James stood to the side, all feeling weary about Carlos’s path down the street.

“Come on, guys, what’s the worst that could happen?” Carlos asked with a roll of his eyes.

The answer?  _ So many things. _

* * *

 

It was hardly the beginning of June and the guys were already covered in bruises. Mrs. Garcia was mumbling under her breath as she wrapped them all in bandages and iced their wounds. She knew as soon as she asked for an explanation, she was in for a wild ride.

That time, Carlos had talked the guys into climbing a tree to find a squirrel. Of course, he’d blamed it partially on Logan, since he was the one who’d been enthralled with the creature in the first place. James and Kendall reluctantly followed Carlos as he pulled himself up the massive oak in his backyard--Logan had been smart enough to refuse.

It was supposed to be quick, easy, and fun. Carlos had gotten too enthusiastic in their pursuit, making him far too reckless for his own good. He fumbled once, his foot catching on a thin branch and snapping it when he tried to pull free. It all happened in an instant.

Kendall and James had been right on Carlos’s heels and were quickly swept up in the turmoil of the trembling tree. The branch crashed into another, causing it to bounce and shake the blond adventurer out of his position. The fallen bough settled on one below it, pushing its support down until it snapped, sending James falling with the other two.

And poor, unsuspecting Logan thought he was so smart and safe on the ground. Until Carlos, James, and Kendall came hurtling down from the tree and landed right on top of him. Twigs, leaves, and hunks of branches crashed down around them. They were left scratched and pained and it was all Carlos’s fault.

* * *

 

July Fourth brought burns and migraines. Carlos’s idea to play sparkler tag had ended just as the guys should have expected, and yet they still agreed to play along.

It made sense. Kendall’s backyard was dark, the stars and moon hardly lighting the grass in front of them. The sparklers and small fireworks the group was setting off was the only source of light they had. When running around the backyard into question, they weren’t about to go back into the house in search of flashlights. Sparklers were just the easiest solution.

Everything was all well and fine until the sparklers started popping toward them and leaving small burning specks on their skin. Then Logan tripped and the hot fuse hit his skin, giving him a bigger burn. And, as if things couldn’t get any worse, Carlos knocked over a freshly lit firework, almost sending the whole backyard into a blaze.

Needless to say, the boys were no longer allowed to play sparkler tag.

* * *

 

Carlos spent the latter half of July in an arm cast, telling the same story every time he got the chance. It was the same old tale of how he’d tried to jump four trash cans on his bike one day. He swore that he made it and it was the landing that got him, but the guys never believed him.

The truth of the matter was, Carlos  _ had _ been jumping trash cans, but he never made it over all four. Carlos hardly made it over one before his bike crashed into the next can in line. The clatter just happened to be loud enough to alert his mom, otherwise he would have been left on the road for an indefinite amount of time. No one was watching him while he played outside, Carlos had been sure of that.

So day after day, Kendall, James, and Logan sat through the same story of how Carlos broke his arm. Jumping four trash cans was not very impressive the fifteenth time they heard about it.

* * *

 

About mid-August, Carlos got his cast off. The doctor told him to take it easy. Mrs. Garcia scoffed.

The next day, when all four boys were back together and playing in Kendall’s front yard, Carlos was anxious to get into all the trouble he’d missed out on. His first order of business was rescuing the action figures that had been thrown into a tree hardly a week ago. The other three refused to go up into the tree, rightfully fearful since the last time they’d been in one. Unfortunately, Carlos was still recklessly fearless.

The action figures were returned to their rightful owners. And Carlos was back in the cast for another few weeks.

* * *

 

When the bottle rockets exploded into action, Kendall, James, and Logan had flashbacks of all the horrible things that had happened this summer. All of the broken bones and scratches and bruises and scars that they still got to poke at. They practically heard the bike wheels squealing across the pavement, aided by the intense speed of the rockets. Carlos was gone in a flash.

And just as quickly as he’d assured the guys that everything would be fine, Carlos came to a stop. His face raked against pavement. His bike twisted above him. The world went hazy.

_ What’s the worst that could happen? _ he’d asked.

The answer? A broken leg, apparently.


End file.
